Crusader's Run
by Soraya21
Summary: This is a retelling of the series Final Fantasy IV that will include elements of both the original release and the DS remake.
1. Prologue

_**Final Fantasy IV is the copyright property of Square Enix, and therefore, I do not hold any rights regarding the characters and the overall plot used in this story.**_

_**This FFIV novelization will be taking material from both the original release and the DS remake. More than that, however, this is my own retelling of the classic series and the changes made to it will hopefully serve to enchant the reading experience.**_

**_Lastly, I would like to thank Saika and goodwitch08 for taking the time to beta read this first chapter for me._  
**

* * *

_"Captain. If all goes according to schedule, the Red Wings will be arriving over Mysidia approximately 1 hour from now, and that the entire fleet should become clearly visible to its citizens in the next 5 minutes."_

_Within the small chamber, a man clad in full, darkened armor looked towards his lieutenant before he gave a polite nod. His attention then shifted to his left at a group of mages, all of whom were chanting quietly with their arms outstretched towards a brilliant yellow light found at the very center of their circle, "Are there any problems arising on this end?"_

_"No, Sir Cecil," A short, brown-haired black mage who Cecil was unfamiliar with answered, her face still tight in concentration, "As was discussed in the briefing, the Serpent's Road is maintained through the two ends of both Baron and Mysidia. It's not so much a question on whether or not we can teleport all of your soldiers in, but how many we can send before the Mysidians close their side of the gate. Please keep that in mind."_

_"I see..." the dark knight trailed off as he glanced around the stone-walled chamber and saw the sober faces of his men as they prepared themselves for the upcoming battle, "So, it's almost time..."_

_"Captain, if I may?"_

_Cecil turned to see the anxious face of Owen, one of the new recruits under his command, and he asked, "Yes? What is it, Owen?"_

_It took several moments before the rookie soldier could seem to find the right words, and when he did speak, it was with a good deal of reserve, "... I can understand if we were on the battlefield, meeting the enemy as they meet us. Yet this... without even a formal declaration..."_

_Cecil closed his eyes and recalled his carefully prepared answers before he spoke, "As much as chivalry may demand it of us, there is no true etiquette when it comes to war. This strategy laid out by his majesty will allow both the greatest degree of success and the lowest number of casualties."_

_"But... We've always had peaceful relations with Mysidia. Yet now, on a whim, his highness—"_

_"Hold your tongue, Owen. It wouldn't do for you to so speak broad and ill of the one whom you swore your loyalties to," Lieutenant Klaus rebuked, yet his anger subsided as Cecil placed a hand on the veteran warrior's shoulders._

_"Remember, we are merely the blade wielded to serve the kingdom, and that his majesty's orders are for the good of Baron. The Water Crystal has brought much prosperity to the town of Mysidia, and with it our own kingdom will grow greater still..."_

_"Captain… This isn't… This isn't why I wanted to become a knight of Baron... "_

_"... If you wish, you may be grouped with the last dispatch team that passes through the gate. I'm sorry, but this is the extent I can do for you."_

_"Sir Cecil, 35 seconds have already passed since the appointed time of operation," the unfamiliar black mage chided in._

_"Right, right..." the dark knight unsheathed his sword and pointed it towards the light. He then shouted with as much heart as he was able to muster, "Onward men! For Baron!"_

_With his men' war cry at his back, Cecil jumped into the portal; his entire form felt weightless and free as he was engulfed by the brilliant bright light.  
_

* * *

"...ir Cecil..! Sir Cecil! Look alive! His highness demands your immediate appearance, and daydreaming in front of his eminence's presence would hardly be proper conduct for a man of Baron to act."

Snapping out of his reverie, the dark knight diverts his eyes away from the silent, gleaming light of Mysidia's Water Crystal in his hands, and he looks into the face of an irate Baigan bearing down on him; strands of his usually well-kept, dirty blond hair looking slightly disheveled. Cecil makes an apologetic gesture which the royal guards' captain pompously ignores before standing to follow him into the corridor leading to the King's audience chamber.

Inside the room, Baron's king sits leisurely atop his throne, his gaze following the two figures entering his chamber. Cecil and Baigan walk up to the base of the steps that lead up to the king's throne before they crotch down to one knee and bow.

"Your majesty," They chorus in unison.

Moments passed as the king of Baron simply regards Cecil's still form before speaking, "I see you were successful in retrieving the Crystal."

Without taking his eyes of the floor, Cecil replies, "Yes, your majesty."

"I would have it."

"Sire."

Looking up and to his side, Cecil sees Baigan standing with his hand extended towards him. A single beat went by, one the dark knight hoped had gone unnoticed, before he relinquishes the Crystal to the royal guards' captain. Baigan makes his way up the steps, delivers the Crystal to the king and then resumes his stationed position by the sovereign's side.

"Marvelous," the king awes, his gaze focused entirely on the Crystal, "Excellent work, Cecil. You may leave us."

The dark knight stands and moves to leave, however, his mounting uneasiness slows his pace while his haunting thoughts give rise to his voice, "Your majesty."

Baron's king silently glances back at Cecil while Baigan's face shows greater signs of annoyance at the interruption, "His highness has given you leave, yet you impose on his presence even further? The insolence."

Swallowing, Cecil begins, "Forgive me, Sire, but my men have begun forming doubts regarding his majesty's policies as of late... And without any given explanation, their misgivings will only grow heavier. "

"As will yours?"

"No..! Your majesty, I would never—"

"Never question his highness' intentions?" Baigan interjects, "But you have just done so. If not from yourself, than through your soldiers whom you bear the overseeing responsibility for."

"Your majesty..!" Cecil pleads.

"How little you must think of me, Cecil, for so little a reason as to sway your loyalties away," closing his eyes, the king of Baron takes a deep breath before continuing, "I see now that placing so heavy a burden on you was a lapse in my own judgment. To correct this, I hereby strip you of your duties as captain of the Red Wings this very moment."

"Please! Sire..!"

The sound of twin doors opening behind him causes Cecil alarm enough to whip his head around. He eases upon seeing it is his best friend and good rival Kain entering the audience chamber. The dragoon makes a quick bow to the king before speaking, "Pardon the intrusion, my liege, but Cecil would never come to doubt his majesty's will. He has always—"

Raising his hand to demand silence, the king ignores Kain's outburst and goes on, "There is a task in need of completion. Renew your vow of allegiance: to your sword, to your king, to your kingdom and to yourself by completing this feat."

Taking out a small item from the inner folds of his robe, the King hands Baigan a ring the color of deep burgundy and in turn the royal guards' captain gives the ring to the dark knight.

"Go to Mist by tomorrow's early light. You will need that ring for the mission I have set for you," Turning his focus onto the dragoon, the king continues, "And Kain. Since you have displayed such a vested interest in his well-being, you may accompany Cecil to see his task become wholly successful."

Cecil and Kain look at each other, questions filling their minds as they stand confused with the simple, yet vague set of instructions laid out by the king. The dark knight hesitantly asks, "But Sire, what are we to do if we are able to reach Mist? And what is necessary to complete this task?"

"Cecil, do you distrust me?"

"Never, your majesty," the dark knight responses instinctively.

"Then this is all you will need to know. This too is part of your trial," The last of the king's words stabs sharply at the dark knight's heart, and he starts to recall the countless good the sovereign has done for him since his infancy. Upon reflection, it seems like pure blasphemy to question the wisdom of the man who had practically raised him as his own.

The king gestures that any further discussion on the matter is now closed. The two knights make a quick bow to the king before leaving the audience chamber. As they arrive back in the recreation room, they finally feel free enough to speak their thoughts.

"... No worries, Cecil," Kain reassures, sternly patting his friend's back as they continue to make their way to the soldiers' resting quarters, "Once we've completed this task for his majesty, he's sure to restore your position as the Red Wing's captain in no time."

Shaking his head, Cecil replies, "It's not that, Kain..."

"Oh? And just what exactly is it then? Perhaps you mean to leave me do all the work while you steal the glory? I must say your cunningness as a black knight have certainly sharpened, if nothing else," the dragoon sneers, though his eyes remain without spite.

Cecil responds to Kain's good-natured ribbing as best as he could, however, he is only able to manage a half smile in return. Before the dark knight could think up a snide comeback of his own, the two knights spot Cid, chief engineer to Baron's Red Wings, and the cleric Rosa, a long time friend of theirs since childhood, waiting outside the quarters.

Being the first of the two to notice their arrival, Rosa happily calls out, "Cecil! Kain!"

"Hey, you two sure took your sweet time. Rosa here was just about to storm up to the king's throne room herself if you were few seconds slower in bringin' him in, Kain."

"Cid!" the cleric cries indignantly, her face slightly flushed as she quickly turns towards the dark knight, "Are you ok, Cecil? Are you hurt anywhere? How about the other soldiers? Were there any injuries or deaths? From Mysidian's side as well..?"

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine, Rosa. And no, while there were several soldiers who sustained injuries during the assault, none of them died or were too severely wounded. The Mysidians..." Cecil gazes down and shakes his head, "The overall outcome could have been far worse. It was thanks to his majesty's strategy that the battle ended as quickly and cleanly as it could..."

"Jeez, what the hell is the king thinkin'? He has me workin' my fingers to the bone on those airships only to turn around and use them for this..!" Cid grumbles with a deep frown etched beneath the great bush that is his brown beard, "At least I have Cecil here to take care my babies while they're away from home."

Lowering his gaze, Cecil begins to say, "About that, I—"

"Cecil and I have been charged with an crucial mission by his majesty, so he won't be able to look after your airships for awhile, Cid," Kain interrupts as he casts a fleeting glance at his friend, "Since we leave for Mist early tomorrow, it would do well of us to retire for the day."

"Yeah... probably should go back home and finally get a good nights sleep myself. Haven't been back at the house for well over a week now, so my daughter might be gettin' mighty worried," Cid muses while scratching his beard. He then makes a final wave to the other three and trots off towards the castle gate leading to town. Rosa continues to study Cecil's demeanor a moment more before speaking.

"It is getting rather late, so I shall retire as well," Rosa's eyes shifts between the two knights; her gaze lingering on the dark knight for a good while longer, "Safe travels you two, and please take care of yourselves."

The cleric follows after Cid and the two knights watch her depart. Just as soon as she was out of earshot, Cecil turns to his friend and says, "Thanks, Kain. I owe you one."

Turning his eyes away, the dragoon replies with an unexpected iciness, "Hn. Don't bother thanking me."

"Kain..?"

"Make sure you get some rest for tomorrow's journey, since we don't know what to be expecting," Kain asserts and without waiting for a reply, he opens the quarters door and heads inside. Cecil attempts to follow him, but loses track of the dragoon in the sea of soldiers filling the rooms.

Having reasoned that his friend merely wished to be left alone, Cecil makes his way to the upper floors. It is only as he approaches closer to his bedchamber does he realize how truly fatigue he feels. As soon as he enters his room, the dark knight places the king's ring on top of his cabinet and leans his sheathed sword up against the wall. He then removes his helmet and sheds his heavy armor plates onto the floor before flopping unceremoniously onto his bed. And though his body remains weary, sleep would not take Cecil as relentless thoughts continued to plague his mind. He spent what seemed like hours looking out his window, simply watching one of the twin moons shine with a dull gleam.

The Hanging Moon and the Waning Moon, the former being the only one presently occupying the night sky. As the name implies, there is a set cycle pattern the Waning Moon undergoes depending on the days and the seasons. Tonight marks its renewal phase where it vanishes only to gradually reappear again in the following nights to come. By contrast, its twin is the polar opposite. Looking to be 3 times bigger than the sun, the Hanging Moon can still be seen looming over the earth even on the brightest of days. It has remained static and motionless throughout the centuries, so much so that many astronomers are no longer researching any aspects regarding its nature.

"Cecil?" A muffled voice suddenly calls, followed by two soft knocks at the door, "Are you awake..?"

Recognizing the voice, the dark knight ponders for several seconds on whether or not to answer; his burning need to relieve himself of his guilt battling with his desire for others not to be burdened with his worries. Her continued, persistent presence gives Cecil the final incentive to get up and open the door for Rosa who remains standing outside the doorway.

The cleric looks at Cecil with concern before she finally speaks, "Are you truly alright?"

Turning away, the dark knight replies, "Like I said before, I'm fine."

"If that is so, then why won't you look at me?" Rosa questions while she takes this moment to step closer to Cecil's side, "You're troubled by what transpired in Mysidia, aren't you? It's perfectly natural for you to feel this way, Cecil, because you're a good man who would never willingly wish harm onto others."

"It's not just that..." the dark knight trails off, looking reluctant to say anymore. However, Rosa does not press him for further details and instead waits for him to continue. A couple of minutes pass before he looks ready to speak.

"... Despite all my doubts, I still carried out the deed in the name of his majesty. Despite all my misgivings, I was still too timid to truly speak my thoughts towards the king," Casting his eyes to the floor, the dark knight solemnly exclaims, "I'm such a miserable, cowardly wretch."

"No. The Cecil I know is no coward. Not the Cecil I love..." Rosa declares, and the conversation suddenly trends to a topic neither one is willing to pursue at this point. A long, resounding silence follows.

"You leave for Mist tomorrow," the white mage states as a means to fill the mute void.

"You need not worry. Kain will be with me," Cecil replies gratefully, placing a hand on her shoulder in a way of reassurance, "The hour is late, you should get some rest."

"Just promise me you'll be careful, and that you'll come back to me," Rosa implores before she turns to dash out of the quarters. As soon as the white wizard is out of sight, Cecil closes the door and returns to bed; the darkness of the room his only solace as he drifts off to a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Cecil promptly arouses from his slumber and looks out his window to see the sky still dark, yet just light enough to drown out the many stars over the horizon. Feeling it's a good enough time to start preparing himself, the dark knight suits back up in his body armor and dons his helmet. He takes his sword, unsheathes it and checks in acute detail the condition of the blade.

Finding everything satisfactory, the dark knight's free hand reaches towards his cabinet but pauses. A few beats pass before he lowers his hand and opens one of the cabinet drawers. Taking out a small black box from within, Cecil simply stares at it; the events from last night playing involuntarily through his head. He squeezes the box tenderly, the peace and security it provides already easing his heart and mind, before choosing to put it inside his inner pockets. He then swiftly takes the king's ring off the cabinet and leaves his room.

The dark knight makes his way down to the lower floors and exits the soldiers' quarters; the clanging of his armor as he moves being the only sound filling the torch-lit corridors. As he nears the castle gate, another fainter clanging noise can be heard. Cecil turns the last corner and is not surprised to see Kain, in full body armor with his signature dual-edged spear strapped to the harness sling on his back, making his way towards the gate at the opposite end.

As the two meet up in front of the gate, Kain easily greets, "Well then. Shall we, Cecil?"

Smiling, the dark knight fastens his helmet's visor down and responds, "Of course. I'll be counting on you, my friend."

"Ha! Just leave it to me." And so, the two knights leave the castle gates of Baron and set out towards the visible mountain range not too far away from their home. Their destination: the valley of Mist.


	2. Morning Mist

_**Big thanks goes out to Black Lotus Flower and Dr Facer for beta reading this hefty second chapter.**_

* * *

Mist. An appropriate, if not a simple name for the valley that is covered in eternal fog all year round. Even though Baron is its closest neighbor, there is very little, if any concrete information known to its citizens regarding the valley. Crucial facts were lost and certain details became exaggerated with each passing generation that weaved the stories of Mist. Now, only vague rumors can be heard circulating within the town of Baron; some so ludicrous only the irrational are ready to believe while others spin a tall tale seemingly catering to the young and naive.

Kain and Cecil's journey was short. By the time they reached the mouth of the cave, the sky's color along the horizon had just deepened to an vivid red. The two knights take a moment to assess the cavern; the flowing mist emitting from within looks less ominous and its interior less grand than what their childhood memories recall.

"Well, no sense in standing out here admiring the view," Kain announces before turning his head towards the dark knight, "Let's get this over with."

Cecil nods to the dragoon as he follows half a step behind him. The heavy fog surrounds them as they enter with spear and sword at the ready. However, neither one is truly expecting anything to appear out of the mist even as their visibility steadily worsens. As the two knights travel deeper into the cave, the limited scenery offered to Kain's vision starts to grow more familiar to him, _"It should be around here somewhere..._

_... Found it."_

A few meters away from the dragoon lays a large, deep indention at the base of several sharp stalagmites. Cecil focuses his gaze to where his friend was looking and discovers what Kain saw. The dark knight's face lights up and he gasps with recognition, "Wow... That sure takes me back. It's been about 10 years since the last time we've ever been back in this cave, hasn't it?"

"Yeah... I just thought it would make for a good enough marker while we're here."

"Good idea. We'll know whether we're making any progress if we don't pass by this checkpoint again," Cecil replies. After the short exchange, the two knights continue their travels in silence and both the near automation of walking mixed with the surreal tranquility of the cave gives Kain's mind free reign to wonder.

* * *

_"We've already been walking for hours, Kain! Come on, let's just give up already."_

_The blond haired boy called Kain turned to his white haired companion and replied, "Hey, I'm not stopping you if you want to go home. But don't come crawling back to me when I'm the first one who finds the village and gets to name it after me."_

_"But don't you think if there really was a village that it would have been discovered by now? I mean, what makes you think we can find it when none of the other grown-ups can?"_

_Kain shook his head at the naivety of his friend. He then spoke to the white haired boy with the infinite wisdom he accumulated in his 11 years of life, "That's just because the Mist village must be really far away and nobody has gone for as long as we have up till now! I'm sure it's just a little further until we can see the exit and that's why we got to keep going. Or do you want to walk alllll the way back just for nothing?"_

_The white haired boy took a moment to mull over Kain's words, though the apparent frown on his face indicated he was more than a little skeptical at the blond haired boy's logic._

_"Well, at least let's take a break first. We've been at this for hours," his friend reiterated before he leaned his back against a stone wall and sat on the ground._

_"Jeez, you're tired already? Well fine! You can sit there like a lump on a log, but I'm going ahead," Kain turned around and continued walking in the direction they were going; the sound of his steps grew louder to his ears the further he walked alone._

_"Stupid Cecil..." Kain muttered under his breath as he began to sweat. The boy was met with __apparent silence and his breathing became heavier as he increased his pace to a jog. His eyes darted from side to side, but all he could see within the cavern was the ghastly shadows mingling with the thick, surrounding mist._

_Just then, Kain thought he heard something. He abruptly stopped and tensely listened. It only took a few seconds before he caught the sound of footsteps from behind him. At first, the boy thought it was his friend, but he struck that idea out almost immediately since these footsteps sounded heavier than either of the two boys could possibly have made. His feet rooted to the ground, Kain's mind raced with possibilities. Yet the single wish he repeatedly thought was for the sound to simply go away. Instead, it only intensified until it seemed to be coming from directly behind his back._

_Kain shut his eyes tightly and broke out into a mad dash, pumping his arms and legs while he sucked the moist air in deep breaths. The boy thought of nothing more than to distance himself from the unknown entity, so it came as a complete surprise when he saw another vague figure right in front of him. He stopped just before he collided straight into his friend, Cecil._

_Still spooked by the sudden encounter, the blond haired boy stuttered, "C-C-Cecil..! How did you get ahead of me?"_

_"W-What are you talking about? I was resting here the whole time. You're the one who got behin..." but Cecil's next words trailed off as his gaze stared up and past Kain's left shoulder. The blond haired boy instinctively turned to see what his friend was looking at and was stunned upon seeing a broad, shadowy figure steadily approaching them. Kain's mounting fears lessened, however, as the figure became clearer to the boy's vision._

_"So, this is where you two were."_

_Kain stared at the all-too-familiar man in front of him and and could only utter, "D-Dad..?"_

_"How many times have I told you not to come to this cavern, Kain?" His father questioned as he sternly looked down at his son before his attention shifted to his white haired friend, "And Cecil, I thought you would know better than this. Or do you take some sort of pleasure in troubling his highness?"_

_Cecil sheepishly looked at the ground and meekly answered, "No, sir... I'm sorry, sir."_

_"Come. Let this be the last time you boys venture here."_

_"We can't go." Kain suddenly declared and both his friend and his father turned back around to look at him. His resolve weakened under the man's gaze, yet the blond haired boy mustered his courage and continued, "It's only a little further until we reach the village, so we have to keep going..!"_

_"'Only a little further' you say?" Kain's father repeated, his face contorted in mild agony. His eyes had then brightened for just a moment before they hardened back to his usual expression, "Tell me, son, how high do you believe this cavern to be?"_

_Not sure where his father was going with this change of topic, Kain cautiously asked, "You mean to the ceiling? I dunno. 20... maybe 25 meters high..?"_

_Kain's father silently nodded to himself before he went over to his son, squatted and effortlessly scooped up the boy in one arm. Like a coiled snake ready to strike, he crouched even lower to the ground before his feet suddenly sprung clear off the ground._

_The abrupt jump was so powerful that Kain couldn't even cry out in surprise, but he did manage to hear one from his friend before the sound quickly vanished under the mist. The boy tried to keep his head upright, but the savage winds from above had beaten down upon them. Yet his father's flight would not be deterred and they continued to rise higher into the air; the relentless mist still around them. It was only after several seconds had passed did Kain realize they had yet to hit the ceiling, which he later figured was a good thing since the sheer rate of their rise skyward would have instantly killed them upon impact._

_As they reached the peak of the jump, the severity of the flight Kain felt a moment ago was soon replaced by the joy of the descent. The ascending winds encompassed them as it did before, only instead of challenging their progress like a stern father, it had embraced their struggle like a loving __mother. Kain couldn't help but keep the euphoric smile plastered on his face as the two continued to fall. But the jubilant thrill soon broke way to complete horror as the blond haired boy suddenly realized they were rapidly approaching a set of tall, jagged rocks only a few meters away._

_Kain's worries were for naught, however, as his father easily maneuvered in and around the various stalagmites. The crash that followed as they hit the ground made a thundering echo throughout the cave, but the boy didn't feel even the slightest bit of discomfort as he remained sitting in his father's arm. He looked down expecting to see some type of injury his dad received from the landing yet was astonished to find out it was the stone floor that gave way to his father's iron-encased feet._

_Kain's father placed the boy down and straightened himself up with no trouble. He then looked down at his son and inquired, "Do you see now, Kain?"_

_Feeling ashamed, Kain could only respond, "Yeah... I'm sorry, dad."_

_"It's fine, so long as you understand and learn from your mistakes," his father replied as he placed a firm hand on his son's back and turned him around, "Now, let's go back and fetch Cecil."  
_

* * *

_"Father..."_

Kain's mind drifts back to the present situation yet his thoughts still linger on the past. Back then, he remembers taking pride in all of the recognition his dad received for his skills as an exceptional soldier of Baron. But it wasn't until that experience did Kain come to fully understand how great of a knight, how great of a man he truly was. Even after succeeding his father's title and becoming the youngest captain to ever lead the dragoons, Kain still felt his abilities and accomplishments were still being overshadowed, that he hasn't been able to measure up to him as of yet.

_"Not just from my father, but also by the youngest ranked captain in the history of Baron,"_ Kain glances at Cecil, the tiniest of smirks forming on his lips, _"Or at least he had been."_

Kain shakes his head doggedly at his thoughts. The dragoon then slows to a halt upon spotting the familiar rock formation and indention on the ground.

"Looks like it's still no good," the dragoon announces, his mood becoming sour, "I believe the king could have stood to instruct us more on 'everything that needs to be done' instead of simply sending us out here on this fool's errand."

"Everything we need..." Cecil whispers to himself, his mind deep in thought and only half-listening to what Kain just said, "The king... ring... What about the ring?"

Cecil takes out the burgundy colored ring and starts examining it for any possible clues the king may have wished them to find. Yet there is no need to even look as the ring revels its purpose the moment it makes contact with the moist cavern air. Like a miniature whirlpool, the surrounding mist begins to swirl closer and closer around the ring until it gets sucked into its very center. The radius of the whirlpool grows with each passing minute until huge globs of mist become swept by the current and vanish into the vortex. Once all of the mist clears, both Kain and Cecil simply stand in place for a moment to intake what just happened.

"Well, that was rather simple," Kain huffs, feeling rather put off that just possessing a piece of jewelry was all it took to solve the biggest mystery that eluded their childhood.

"Aaa..." Cecil mumbles in agreement as he pockets the ring back, noticing it got lighter in color and is now more of a scarlet red.

The two knights look around and find the inside of the cavern to be far smaller than what they had imagined; the dragoon dryly notes the ceiling is only about 15 meters high. There is a light shining at the far end of the cavern about 100 meters from where they're standing and upon approaching closer, they become surprised seeing a white dragon in front of the exit. Its bulky body, despite covering up the huge opening of the cavern, casts no shadow as it seems to perfectly blend in with the outside light. Its intelligent eyes never leaving the two knights, the divine creature remains poised in a guarded position yet makes no motion to attack.

"It doesn't seem to be very hostile..." Cecil wonders out loud.

"But its not exactly friendly either," Kain finishes.

A low growl escapes from the dragon's closed mouth and its frontal claws dig a little deeper into the earth. To Kain, the beast doesn't seem like it has any intention of fighting them, but it was warning the two knights of the consequences if they attempted to trespass.

"Perhaps we can try to reason with it," Cecil says as he seems to have gotten the same, unique impression as the dragoon. Kain's eyes widen in dumbfounded amazement as he sees the dark knight sheathing his sword and carefully making his way closer to the dragon. The beast crotches lower to the ground and its body language shows greater signs of aggression, but still it does not attack.

Cecil stops at a reasonable distance away and waits for a moment. His face bears a good amount of uncertainty to it but he nevertheless exclaims, "We are knights of Baron and are in need of traveling beyond these borders. Is there any way you would allow us to pass?"

The dragon growls and its long tail pounds the ground heavily, and that to Kain was a final warning for them to leave. Before Cecil can speak any further, a red light seems to flash from the dark knight's body. Both his friend and the creature recoil from the sudden flash, and in an instant the beast whips its tail towards the dark knight. Cecil is sent sailing backwards, hits the stone floor and continues to skid back to where Kain is; all the while the dragon roars.

"So much for negotiations," Kain observes, not all that surprised regarding the outcome.

Cecil wheezes as he tries to catch his breath while his right hand moves to his left side, yet he grabs nothing but air. The two knights look back to see Cecil's sword lying underneath the white dragon. However, the beast makes no further move to follow up on its strike and instead waits for them to initiate the offensive.

"Quite a clever creature it is, I'll give it that much," Kain says before turning his head back towards his friend, "I'll draw the dragon's attacks while you try finding an opportunity to recover your sword. Then, we can assault it simultaneously from the air and ground."

Nodding his head a bit weakly, Cecil replies, "Sounds like a plan."

The two knights waste no more time moving to flank the creature on both sides; Kain going to the right with Cecil taking the left. As soon as the dragoon gets within a desirable distance, he makes full use of his trademark skill and jumps towards the dragon, attempting to also go in for the kill should the opportunity arises. And though the cave's low interior restricts his jumping ability, it is still high enough for him to get above his target and gain the initial advantage.

To Kain's utter shock, the dragon stands up on its hind legs and meets the dragoon's gaze at an even level, its long, serpentine neck and head quickly snapping towards him. He maneuvers himself as best as he can and barely manages to dodge the dragon's fangs as it bites at the spot where his right leg was at just a second ago. As soon as his feet touch the ground, the dragoon makes a series of alternating jumps, this time playing it safe and trying to bait the beast away from its position and into attacking him. However, the creature does not fall for his ploy and instead focuses its attacks on his unarmed friend.

Kain lands back on the ground and takes a quick glance to see how Cecil is faring in his condition. Unfortunately, the dark knight was unable to retrieve his sword during that time; the lower half of the dragon's body was still enough to keep him at a distance. The dragoon thinks about making another risky jump that would force the beast to meet his assault. His gamble will also lower the danger of its claws and tail for Cecil, giving the dark knight another chance at picking his sword back up. But a repeat of what happened the first time kept replaying itself in Kain's mind, and he grimly wonders whether lady luck would smile upon him a second time.

Just then, Cecil turns his head in Kain's direction and makes eye contact with him; the dark knight rises the small shield strapped to his left forearm ever so slightly. It takes the dragoon only two seconds to understand what his friend means to do.

_"So that's it."_

Kain jumps way back behind Cecil and flips his spear over with renewed vigor, the jigged saw edge being switched to the dual prong pike meant for sheer, unbridled impalement. He watches his friend dashing into and pulling out of the dragon's airspace before fierce claws could slash his torso apart. Kain's eyes remain unblinking as he aims his spear towards the beast's neck and continues to wait for the right opportunity.

The moment came in the form of a fang thrust as the dragon crotches low to the ground and utilizes the longer reach of its neck to try biting the elusive dark knight in half. Cecil rolls to one side while Kain vault jumps to try covering as much ground as fast as possible. But the distance between them was too great, and the beast had enough time to stand back on its hind legs and meet him head-on. The dragon bares its fangs once more and lunges forward, and there's no doubt in the dragoon's mind that its fangs would impale him before the length of his spear could slay the beast. But Kain makes no motion to avert his flight, his spear still trained on the dragon's neck as that is where he intends to skewer it.

Even with the looming death approaching him, the dragoon always kept track of his friend's position at the bottom of his eyesight, and that is why he knew for certain their plan would succeed.

Kain sees Cecil rushing underneath him, his sword laid within arm's reach now if he takes a single moment to crouch down. But the dark knight dashes passed the blade and continues to make a beeline towards the dragon. Using the force of his momentum, he raises his shield and rams his body directly into the dragon's exposed belly, causing its neck to teeter just enough for its fangs to prematurely snap shut in the empty space besides the dragoon's left arm.

"I've got you!"

The edge of Kain's spear easily sinks into the weaving neck of the white dragon as the beast loses its unsteady balance and falls backwards. Yet the expected sound of the creature hitting the ground is never heard as its entire body dissipates back into the vanishing mist.

* * *

"Kyaaaaahhh..!"

The woman's shriek reverberates throughout the empty living room of her home and she can only hope her voice did not disturb her child's slumber upstairs. Using both of her hands, the woman frantically grips her delicate neck in a vain attempt to cover the phantom wound.

_"Calm down... it's only an illusion..." _

But the pain feels incredibly real. Her head keeps feeding her the logic that this agony is due to the connection she shares with her eidolon. Yet every time the woman tries easing the pressure of her hands away, she begins to convulse terribly, her breath feeling as if air is escaping from the hole within her neck while imaginary blood wets her hands and leaks down from the cracks between her fingers.

A crystal-clear voice that is not her own suddenly echoes in the woman's mind, _"Mistress, are you well?"_

_"Mist..."_ the woman weakly transmits back, _"Yes. I'll manage... How about you?" _

_"You need not concern yourself with me,"_ the voice reverberates in her head, _"More importantly, those two men will soon be leaving the cavern. And I am afraid that in my current condition I will not have the strength to stop them." _

_"Yes..."_ the woman gravely agrees, the memories of the battle still fresh in her mind. Never did she dream of there being warriors out in the world who possess the strength to best the eidolons, _"There's no other choice. We need to release the limiters completely." _

_"You understand what this means, Mistress? While this will allow us to fight once more beyond our normal capacity, the sense of the pain suffered in the prior battle will merely be overwhelmed by the temporary sensation of our assimilation. If we should retain the unrestrictive spell for too long in __our weakened state, or if we are mortally wounded during that time..." _

_"Then there will be no second chances. I know, Mist,"_ the woman finishes. And though her body is still shaking, no longer wholly from the phantom pain, her face is set with resolve. It is her duty as guardian, but more than that, her desire as a mother to protect the village and her child within it. _"Even so, this isn't about what happens to us. Not anymore."_

_"... I understand, forgive me for voicing needless concerns,"_ the bell-like voice resounds, _"At your ready, Mistress." _

Closing her eyes, the woman steadies her breathing as best as she can and wastes no time preparing the forbidden spell. A set of magical seals suddenly blossoms and forms at the base of her feet. The overflowing mana found within the Mist valley's boundaries gather into the seals and resonates with the tattoo etched in her left breast.

**Forged from the unbreakable pact  
passed down through the ages past...**

The first verses recited, its runic equivalence that shape the center circle lifts up and erodes away. When the last of the words vanish, the seal suddenly shimmers and starts to slowly rotate clockwise.

The pain in the woman's throat already starts to ease into nothingness. Not so much in recovery, but more like her spirit is gradually being released from its life.

**The spoken word ever binding  
the true duty eternally...**

Again, the symbols that make up the larger triangle seal decay, and a second rush of mana causes it to flash and spin counter-clockwise at a faster rate.

Her mind's eye blurs as if it were traveling at an insane speed. Shapes of objects and scenery become unrecognizable like they were doused with water and smeared to one direction.

**I alone holds the runic key  
the rightful call to beckon thee  
to grant the awaited release...**

The verses of the 3 smaller, outermost circles located at each of the spinning triangle's corners disappear for a third time and the entire seal flares intensely; leaving only the last incantation, the final seal over her hear, to be released.

She can see it now. Like an omnipotent onlooker, she witnesses everything that is happening inside the Mist cavern where her eidolon fell. However, she is powerless to intervene and can only watch as the two knights, having recollected their weapons, make their way to the mouth of the cave. Even hidden, she can still feel all of the mana being sucked in by that terrible ring.

_"It's too late..."_ the woman thinks spitefully as her vision grows steadily closer to them.

"Cecil..." the azure knight whispers as he slows his pace. When he takes a quick glance at his companion, he sees the black knight has already stopped walking with his sword drawn once more. The two knights cautiously look around, yet the increasing amount of mist gathering around them is far worse than before and would not even allow for 5 meters of visibility.

As if feeling the presence behind his back, the swordsman quickly whips his head around, his eyes showing great surprise as he looks directly at her, _"You're too late!"_

**Fulfill the pledged promise!  
Dragon of the Mist!**

"Kai—!"

Her lashes out for a second time and sends the ring bearer flying before he even has time to finish. The strike was so powerful that it causes his form to become imprinted into the stone wall he smashes behind. The azure knight quickly recovers from the shock and attempts to jump out of the mist, however, the guardian's left claw solidifies from above, swiftly catches him in midair and pins his back to the ground. She begins applying her immense body weight onto her captured prey, and both the grating sound of his armor crippling and the satisfying cries of his agony follows.

But before the eidolon can lean any more forward, a sharp pain erupts from the side of her left claw, causing her to howl and loosen her grip on the azure knight. Though sheer willpower, the guardian manages to push pass the pain long enough to re-tighten her hold on him before he escapes. With the infernal spear still lodged in her claw, the suffering it inflicts won't allow her to apply much pressure on him; only enough to hold the azure knight in place.

The guardian shifts her attention back to the black knight and sees him struggling to remove the last piece of himself, his sword arm, out of the wall. After a moment he succeeds and staggers hurriedly towards her but she is ready for him. Releasing the long breath she had taken in, the eidolon blows out a continuous stream of vapid mist towards the swordsman, stopping his advance.

Being too far away to mount any form of counterattack and having no cover within the spacious cavern, the ring bearer can do nothing more but try to evade and endure the long ranged assault. But all the eidolon need do is move her head slightly to keep a lock on him. And no matter how tight his defenses are, her mist breath will overwhelm him and seep into even the tiniest openings of his armor. The black knight seems to have discovered that fact for himself as he forgos the protection his shield offered. He then takes his sword in both hands, shifts to a side stance and raises the blade horizontal to the line of his sight.

The guardian would have roared with laughter at the swordsman's futile attempts if her throat wasn't already preoccupied. However, she begins to think differently as the eidolon sees a dark aura start to ooze out of the black knight's entire body. The small globs of darkness rise up until they stick to the sleek metal of his sword, causing the entire blade to grow pitch black and look sinisterly sharp. Feeling an awful premonition, the guardian prepares to breath out her mist breath to its fullest extent, one that will permanently halt the swordsman's progress, but the throbbing ache in her throat gives cause for her to falter.

_"No..! Not now_—_!" _

The burning pain increases with each passing second; the use of the mist breath only serves to accelerate the reappearing damage within her neck. Despite the imminent danger, the guardian steadily increases the strength of the attack, praying she can at least stop the ring bearer from ever entering Mist. Yet the more she immerses herself into the spell-bound pact, the more a distant voice grows stronger and pulls her out of it.

* * *

"Mama! Mama! Snap out of it!" the green haired girl cries out again as she desperately tries to take hold of her mother, her small hands only millimeters away.

Something felt terribly out of place the moment the little caller awoke this morning. She first noticed the strange, vibrant orange of the sun's rays filtering into her bedroom. The vision offered to her eyes as she looked outside was far clearer than all the mornings she has experienced before. For the first time in her life, the girl was able to look pass the mist-less forest and saw the dual mountain ranges that cradle the village, stretching into and beyond the far horizon. Her tension only increased as she walked in the dead silence of her house and made her way downstairs. An awful feeling then swept over her as she saw the multicolored lights emitting from the living room, and she jumped the last few steps of the stairs to quickly see what was happening.

What she saw were runic symbols brightly shining beneath her mother's feet as the woman sat on a chair sideways from the table while intensely staring into empty space. The caller was taken aback upon seeing her mother's fierce expression, but her surprise was soon replaced with worry as she witnessed the woman pressing her hand down hard against the table and aggravating the wound punctured in her left waist. Suddenly, a small drop of blood appeared out of nowhere on her mother's neck. The drop grew larger until it could no longer maintain its form and began to slowly trickle down.

The girl had called out with slight reserve, yet the woman made no motion of hearing her daughter's voice. She began walking towards the seated woman but was stopped by what felt like a small static shock, discharged at the tip of her toes. Flinching back from the unexpected shock, she reopened her eyes and took notice of her mother's neck again, alarmed to find the trail of blood had grown 5 times wider within such short period of time.

Her concern far outweighing her rationale, the girl moved towards her mother without a second thought and as soon as she steps onto the outermost seal again, the electric shocks resumed and intensified as more of her feet covered the light of the seals. A long, hapless moan escaped through the caller's clamped mouth for she couldn't withstand the pressure and pain, wanting desperately to shrink into herself and let out the wail contain beneath the base of her throat. But the shortening distance, however slow the progress was, allowed her to preserve.

_"Just a little more..!" _

The caller now makes a final lunge and her hand manages to grab hold of her mother's right sleeve. But the moment she touches her, a shock more powerful than any other suddenly jolts throughout her entire body and just as quickly returns to a singular point over her chest. The pain is pure, overwhelming agony, like all of the gathered energy busted out and left a gaping hole over her heart. But the feeling soon vanishes along with the shocks that tried to resist her so, the runic seals now working in harmony with the girl.

With no more obstacles standing in her way, the girl emotionally pleads, "Mama, please!"

The woman minutely blinks, her eyes regaining some of their focus as she turns towards her daughter. Relieved, the girl smiles upon seeing the recognition in her mother's eyes. However, the moment lasts all too briefly.

From the corner of her right shoulder all the way down to the middle of her left thigh, a crimson scar suddenly blossoms and stains her mother's tan dress. She slowly collapses out of her chair, the runic seals disappearing before the right side of her body even manages to hit the wooden floor.

_"This can't be real..." _is the caller's only thought as she stares at her mother's still form. More and more, panicked thoughts hijack her mind as tears start welling up in her eyes. Yet, the girl fights to remain calm, _"... Got to get help. The Faeries. Anyone of the older kids who can call them. Anyone..!" _

But before she could take the first step towards the door, her mother's voice slurs out, "Ry...dia... wait..."

Rydia stops and turns back around to see her mother take her wounded hand and dip a finger into the sizable puddle of blood by her right shoulder. Dragging it to a clean spot on the floor, she shakily draws a circle and then an unfamiliar symbol within it. As soon as the last strokes are written, several green spheres swiftly swirl and raise from the seal. A yellow light then flashes from the ground and out materializes a strange woodland creature, the large red gemstone engraved in its forehead clashing heavily with the teal color of its fur.

The tiny creature looks at the one who summoned it and curiously tilts its head to one side. The woman takes her blood-stained finger and rubs it onto the creature's gem before she murmurs, "pleas...e... s long... you... can... Car...bunc...le..."

The ruby glows and the creature, in a trance, begins to float a few inches above the seal. The girl sees a faint red light shot up from out of the ground and into the ceiling, yet no damage was done to any of the structure it seemingly cuts. The light forms and spreads, encompassing the entire house.

With great difficulty, the woman turns her head and cloudy eyes towards Rydia, outstretches her arm and pleads, "prom...ise... eave... don'... leave..!"

The caller feverishly shakes her head as she grasps her mother's hand with both of her own. But the woman's eyes shone with fierce desperation and implores Rydia to fulfill her final request. As she sits on the floor by her mother's side, the girl can't help but notice the majority of the dress is already dyed into a dark maroon. Rydia shuts her eyes at the sight, and that momentary lack of knowing gives her the incentive needed to nod her head as she intertwines her own pinky finger with her mother's.

"od... good... gi...rl..." her mother whispers as she begins to faintly stroke the girl's palm with her fingers. And though she continues to speak, the words can no longer be made out, her voice pausing too frequently and coming in too softly. Feeling completely hapless and pathetic, Rydia sheds the tears she tried so hard to hold back. Even now, her mother is the one comforting her, trying to ease her own anguish while she's suffering so much more.

Several minutes pass by with only the sound of the girl's soft weeping. Then, her mother's stroking fingers slows to a stop. A moment later, her lips cease to move and her eyes close. Rydia calls out to her: once, twice and yells out the third time. She frantically shakes the woman's body and cries out again and again and again. But this time, her mother won't turn her eyes towards her. Never again.

* * *

_"It's over." _

A resounding crash sounds as the dragon hits the cavern floor, the once noble beast laying in a great heap a fair distance away from Cecil. The dark knight begins to walk towards to where his friend lies but halfway along he is overcome by an insuperable weariness and falls to one knee. His gaze falls on his sword and he isn't surprised to find the blade a bit duller than it was a few moments ago. Just like his sword's durability, he feels his own life vitality being slowly eaten away each time he uses his secret technique: the Corrosion of Darkness.

By the time Cecil feels well enough to move again, Kain has already removed himself from beneath the dragon, discarded his crushed breastplate, recovered his spear from the beast's claw and made his way towards the dark knight. The dragoon stops in front of Cecil and with a loose grin he silently extends his hand out. The dark knight also smiles a little under his visor and gratefully accepts his friend's aid in getting back on his feet.

As the two knights approach the dragon, they begin to assess the severity of its injuries. Finding that it doesn't have long to live, Kain lifts up his spear and prepares to strike the finishing blow. But there is something in the creature's eyes that causes Cecil to waver and call out to his friend, "Wait, Kain."

Without turning, the dragoon evidently responds, "It will be far kinder of us to put the beast out of its misery."

"Still... Just don't."

The dragoon turns and raises an eyebrow at Cecil, then lowers his spear and walks past the dragon. With his back to him again, Kain states plainly, "I didn't think you would wish to leave it to such a cruel fate."

Cecil takes a last look at the creature as it calmly closes its eyes before he follows after his friend. The two knights soon step out of the cave and into the dawning yellow sunlight. It takes a moment for their vision to readjust, and what they see in front of them is the village of Mist residing just outside the cavern exit. But nothing seems mystical about this backwater town, or at least not enough to warrant the various myths fashioned about it. If anything, the village resembles the two knights' own hometown, except it's far smaller and looks less alive with activity.

Cecil and Kain simply make their way to the town center. Before long, townsfolk begin to notice the strangers walking within their village and start to gather around the two knights. Many of the adults' expression hold confusion and worry while the children look on curiously. The townspeople whisper amongst themselves as they keep their distance, and Cecil takes note of one particular group who are all huddled together. They continue to converse until two of their junior members break away from their circle and dash north of the village that is nearest to the mountainside.

"What business would you men have in coming here?" an elderly man looking to be in his mid 80s suddenly questions as he takes the first step towards them, "You wouldn't possibly be affiliated with Mysidia by any chance? If so, then our answer has not changed and remains the same as before."

The two knights are slightly taken aback by the old man's unexpected question. Cecil is the first to recover and replies, "Oh, no. We hail from the kingdom of Baron and have been sent by our king to travel here to the valley of Mist..."

"... And? For what purpose?" the old man reiterates. Cecil's eyebrows crease in thought as he turns to look at Kain in the hopes he might have a ready response. The dragoon merely shrugs his shoulders, indicating to the dark knight he won't find any help from his friend.

Several beats of silence pass by and suspicion starts to grow within the crowd. Cecil then decides to show them the king's ring, hoping it may distract them or at least buy the two knights more time to think.

As Cecil takes out the ring, he distinctly notices its color is now a hot pink. And just like before when it is exposed to the air, the ring's function starts taking affect and begins to burn wickedly through his gauntlet. As soon as his nerves register the heating metal on his palm, the dark knight cries out in pain and flings the ring into the air. The ring then explodes into a blinding red light so bright that Cecil shields his sight, and the only sensation he can feel is the air as it grows scorching hot all around him. It takes several seconds of blinking before he is able to see clearly again.

But what awaits his vision is the village of Mist transformed into a burning ruin as countless creatures of the flame erode all that is left standing. Houses and homes both tall and small, men, women, children: nothing is spared as the great fire sweeps through the entire village. What was once a circle of lively townsfolk now lie only ablaze bodies littered around the two knights. Cecil falls to his knees, not believing the horrid sight in front of him, _"No... This can't be... It's like Mysidia all over again, only far worse... Why..? Why is this happening?" _

"Cecil!"

The dark knight snaps out of his reverie in time to see one of the floating bomb monsters come incredibly close to him with wide open jaws. Before the bomb could chomp his head off, the point of Kain's spear shots straight into its mouth, drills the flaming creature's brain clean through and comes out the other end of its skull. The bomb profusely bleeds black oil as it continues to twitch even after it dies. The dragoon violently swings his spear sideways to dislodge the bomb corpse still impaled on its edge and urgently yells at the dark knight, "We got to get out of here!"

But Cecil could barely hear his friend over the roar of the inferno and the townspeople's distant screams within it. Kain grabs the dazed dark knight's arm, yanks him back on his feet and turns him around, only to be greeted with the sight of half a dozen hungry bombs blocking their escape path. The two knights cautiously back away, but the monsters don't let up even an inch as they slowly advance as well. As Cecil starts scanning for the best place to breach through the pack of flaming creatures, his far sight happens to catch a lone structure that is not dyed along with the sea of orange, red and ashen black. The dark knight taps his friend's hand and motions with his eyes to what he saw. Upon seeing what is to the north of them, the dragoon gives a slight nod.

The two knights immediately sprint towards the direction of the house with the bombs closely in hot pursuit. They run with all their might, and Cecil feels the gap widening between them. However, as they approach closer to their destination, he grimly notes a pair of bombs already in front of the house's entrance. But as luck would have it, the monsters lay their focus on assaulting the house with their backs facing the two knights. The dark knight quickly cleaves the closer bomb clean in half with his sword while the dragoon pierces the other one with his spear.

As the two halves of the monster float down to the ground, Cecil is surprised to see a green haired girl no older than 10 look up at him with eyes full of stricken fear. He only realizes after looking at her wet, blackened neck that he came incredibly close to beheading her along with the bomb. Before he can dwell on the thought for very long, Kain brushes past him and returns the dark knight back to the reality of the situation.

Cecil takes care not to bump into the girl as he runs into the house as well. A couple of seconds later, the six bombs finally catch up with their prey but are driven back as they hit the mysterious, ruby light emitting from the floor of the house. No matter how fiercely they assault the barrier, it gives no quarter and continues to repel them. The two knights breath a sign of relief before they look at the girl who is trying to speak, her mouth working on and off during the entire process.

"H...h-help... help me... my mom... she..." the little girl manages to choke out after a good while. Cecil and Kain look towards the far side of the house and see a woman lying on the floor with a small, glowing creature besides her. They go over to the woman, the dark knight crouching down next to her and checking for any signs of life. But the two knights already know. The woman's complete and utter stillness, the large pool of blood on the floor. Cecil turns back to look at the girl and gravely shakes his head. She slowly shakes her own head in disbelief and slumps back on the floor. Her eyes well up to the brim with renewed tears, yet she is able to somehow hold it all in and let none fall from her face.

During the time Cecil examined the woman's body, an uneasy feeling had risen within him. The puncture in her waist, the wound in her neck, the obvious cut across her body hidden by her dress, even the position she lays in; it is completely identical to his last image of the dragon as it laid dying in the cave. And the more he thinks about it, the more he becomes certain. Both the type and cause of her injuries made it impossible for the woman to have receive these wounds from the bomb monsters outside, and the fact the barrier itself was erected in anticipation from this disaster is proof enough to confirm his suspicions.

Cecil turns to his friend and can't help but question, "Kain, did we really..? It is possible that we..?"

Coming to the same conclusion, Kain nods, "I didn't think the rumors were true, but it looks like these people do have the ability to control phantom beasts and bend them to their will. This is probably the trade-off for the power they're bestowed. By killing the dragon, in turn we this woman, its maste—"

"No..." the girl suddenly voices and glares up at the two knights through wet, brimming eyes, "You mean, you did this?"

"We're sorry... We didn't know..." Cecil feebly replies. But he knows ignorance is not nearly enough of an excuse for their actions and simply apologizing won't undo the damage already done.

Kain remains silent to the girl's questioning as he takes a heavy step closer to her, gripping his spear more tightly in his left hand, "It's foul work, Cecil, but we need to kill this girl as well."

Both the dark knight and the girl stares shockingly at the dragoon and Cecil loudly protests, "Kain!"

"You should know by now. His majesty wished this village torched, along with everything in it," Kain speaks with an eerie calm, "If you're unwilling to stain your hands, then I can be the one to do the deed. Or we can simply toss her outside this barrier if you prefer. Either way will bring about the same end."

"How the hell can you even say that? She's just a child!" the dark knight yells as he gets dangerously close to the dragoon's face.

"We've come this far, there's no turning back now," Kain passively states in the face of his friend's anger. Ruefully shaking his head, he then spreads out his right hand to indicate everything that's behind him, "These people. All of these lives are already lost. We need only take the last one to complete the mission, one more for us to return to life in Baron. Think about everything we'll be giving up if we disobey. It's either her or us, Cecil."

"Just one more, to endure just a little more... I'm tired of using that excuse. Believing it doesn't make things any easier, any better," Cecil solemnly states more to himself than to anyone else. He closes his eyes and keeps them shut for a long time. Honor, duty, sacrifice, the greater good: all the jumbled thoughts of last night breaks down in the face of one definite truth. Cecil reopens his eyes, "This is wrong, Kain. And I will no longer play a party to this."

"You would betray the king?"

"I won't betray my feelings. I won't turn a blind eye to this any longer."

The dragoon looks at the dark knight, critically assessing the worth of his words. It is only after he finds no fault or waver in Cecil's expression does Kain loosen his grip on his spear, "Even so, Cecil, you won't be doing the girl any favors by saving her here. You'll see it will all be meaningless in the end."

A jarring clash suddenly breaks into the two knights' conversation and they both look towards the entrance to see a fallen support beam was the cause of the noise. Upon further inspection, they notice the entire front wall is lit ablaze behind the group of bombs who managed to get inside the house. Though the mysterious light still repels them as it did before, one thing is for certain. The barrier is gradually shrinking and the flames are slowly licking away at the structure of the house.

"Looks like we've overstayed our welcome," the dragoon offhandedly remarks. He then looks towards the dark knight and seriously asks, "You'll be taking the girl then?"

Nodding, Cecil responds, "Go on ahead, Kain. It will be easier for you to make it out on your own, and I don't want to involve you into anymore—"

Raising his right hand, the dragoon cuts off Cecil and breaks out a humorless laugh, "Ha. You say that now, but I'm already in enough of your mess as it is. May as well go the full distance, you know."

"Kain..."

Another clash sounds from the far side of the house and dust starts to fall from the ceiling as the roof caves in a little more. The dragoon dismissively replies, "Save the thanks for later, we can't linger any longer."

The two knights finally turn their attention back at the girl and they see she was staring at them the entire time while she fearfully huddled besides her mother's side. Cecil carefully walks towards her with his arm outstretched, "It's dangerous to stay here, come with us."

The girl looks down and decisively shakes her head. Annoyed, the dragoon aggressively approaches her and asserts, "We've no time for this, simply take her by force."

"No! Stay away!" the girl cries and manages to dash in between the two knights, however in doing so, she nearly runs into the group of bombs awaiting in the next room. She halts to a stop just along the blue light's edge, and the girl can only stare wide-eyed as the monsters all turn towards her and try grinding through the barrier; their carnivorous teeth only a few millimeters away from her face. Using the protection of the barrier to their advantage, the two knights quickly dispatch the flaming creatures with little difficulty and the gruesome aftermath remaining in front of the girl leaves her completely shell-shocked.

Though her hollow eyes trouble his conscious greatly, Cecil nevertheless carries the paralyzed girl under his left arm, knowing it will be easier this way than if she's flailing about. With Kain taking point guard, the dark knight follows two steps behind his friend's right side as they rush through the blazing streets of Mist. But it doesn't take long before the hundreads of bombs scattered throughout the ruined village sense their presence, and they all start to converge towards the sole survivors of their destruction.

The first wave of bombs slow the two knights down, and the second wave halts their progress completely. By the third and fourth waves, retreat is no longer an option as the numerous monsters begin to overwhelm them from all directions. With their backs turned against each other, the dark knight is unable to spare even a passing glance to see how Kain is faring.

The flaming corpses keep piling up around them and Cecil losses track of the number of bombs he has slain long ago. His body is drenching with sweat from both the long exhaustion and the fierce heat while his armor becomes thoroughly soaked in the enemy's oil. Still, he continues swinging at anything red and circular, fully aware of the monsters slipping more and more into his guard with each passing second.

A furious bomb suddenly comes into Cecil's blind spot at his left side, and the dark knight makes a desperate turnabout swing of his body, allowing him to narrowly dodge the monster's jaws at his back while simultaneously smashing its face in with the hilt of his sword. But the maneuver causes Cecil to loss his grip on the girl and she is sent tumbling several feet away. Seeming to have recovered from her paralyzed shock, the girl crawls and desperately tries to run back towards the house but another bomb comes barreling down the street in front of her.

_"No!"_ Cecil sprints forward and is able to get in front of the girl just as the bomb makes a lunging chomp. The dark knight raises his shield in time and wedges the monster's jaws with it. He then quickly drives the tip of his sword through the bomb's left eye, effectively ending its life.

Cecil turns around to re-collect the girl but he is stunned into motionlessness upon seeing the agonizing look on her face, the hot tears flowing uncontrollably down her cheeks. What was once void of any feelings, an array of emotions now swirl within those wet, blue eyes: bewildered fear, righteous anger, profound emptiness. But nothing is more vivid than the ruling passion that governs them all.

Pain.

That look of naked, overflowing grief causes a cold shock to run throughout Cecil's body: never before does the glaring guilt come so strongly. His instincts tell him to avert his eyes to anywhere but hers, yet he is simply unable to do so. The dark knight is absently aware of several bombs enclosing around them but even they feel distant and insignificant compared to what is before him.

The little girl heart-achingly screams at him, her voice dominating over the roaring fire and breaking into the darkened heavens, "Why? Why did you do this to us? I HATE you! I HATE YOU ALL!"

The next thing Cecil knew, something akin to a huge explosion rocks his entire body and sends him flying backwards at an incredible velocity. The invisible force thrusts him all the way back to the house but as soon as he passes through the barrier again, gravity starts to sink in and slow him down. With a heavy thud, Cecil's rear strikes the wooden floor and he continues to skid until he slams hard into the far end of the house, his flight taking him back to the same room the dead woman still lays. The dark knight groggily gets back on his feet, yet he wobbles back down; not because he lost his balance but because the earth actually moved underneath him. He looks outside just in time to see the ground has split into countless fragments, some raising high into the air that obscures the far scape while many others simply fall and create an even deeper ravine.

Cecil manages to spot the girl laying unconscious on a piece of ground and notices with dread that it happens to be one of the split sections falling into the earth. Willing himself to make it on time, he speeds towards her. But another violent rumble causes the ground to collapse in front of him, and an increasingly wide canyon starts to form and drive them apart. But the dark knight continues to rush forward, praying he has even a fraction of his friend's ability as he makes the long jump to the other side. He soars through the empty air and is able to safely grab onto the ledge where the girl is at, however, his added body weight causes that piece of land to crack and crumple. They both plummet down; the darkness of the abyss the last image Cecil sees before his consciousness fades into the same black.


	3. Desertion

_**Props go out to Dr Facer for taking the time to betaread this lengthy chapter.**_

* * *

_"Mmmm... Agghhh..."_

Cecil hazily opens his eyes and green fills his entire vision. His gaze first rests upon the wet blades of grass directly in front of his sight, then he looks pass them to see distant trees in the background. The dark knight rolls his body over to the other side, momentarily catching the sight of the clear blue sky before noticing the huge canyon and massive landslide at the far end of his vision.

_ "What happened..?"_ Cecil wonders as he tries to recall the events after the pitfall, but nothing comes to mind as to explain how he came to be here.

The dark knight wearily sits up from his soft, comfortable position on the grass and spots the girl laying by his feet. While her skin looks ghostly pale, there are no visible marks or wounds anywhere on her body and though she is unconscious, her breathing comes out soft and evenly.

_ "Still alive,"_ Cecil breaths a sigh of relief. But another thought suddenly strikes him and he looks around alarmingly, berating himself for neglecting another person in his checklist, "Kain? Kain! If you can hear me, answer! Kain!"

He continues yelling out his friend's name for a good while longer but Cecil is met with only a resilient silence. He runs towards the canyon's edge and begins scanning the steep side. After several minutes of searching, the dark knight lets himself feel a bit more at ease as he spotted nothing that resembles the dragoon at the bottom of the ravine. Cecil's body moves on instinct, preparing to cross the canyon and landslide so that he may continue looking for his friend, but he stops himself before making the first decent. Kain said he's willing to disobey the king with him, however, it's not necessary for the dragoon to do so. Only one person is needed to take the fall.

_ "At least with this Kain can return home..."_ Cecil fleetingly thinks as he takes one last look across the other side and prays for his friend's safety. Just as he turns back around, the dark knight spots something along the canyon's edge; a lone, scorched house surprisingly withstood the combined onslaught of both the fire and the earthquake. Cecil heads towards the ruin structure, enters the building through a collapsed section of one of its walls and begins looking for anything salvageable.

Scarce as they may be, he is still thankful for finding the bare essentials needed for the upcoming journey: a few strips of dried meat and a small leather flask that he later fills with water from a well nearby. The dark knight then removes all of his armor and discards them in the best place available, knowing he'll need to retain as much stamina as possible for the upcoming journey.

Now wearing only light garments with his sword strapped to his side, he walks back to the clearing. Just as he bends down to pick up the girl, his body slows to a halt as his mind starts working on alternative methods he can take. Being stripped of his title, Cecil no longer holds any authority within the ranks of Baron, and the king surely won't pardon a survivor of Mist if the sovereign took such measures to annihilate them all to begin with, _"But, just maybe—"_

Cecil shuts his eyes and cuts himself off, venomously stomping out the weakness within him. Returning to Baron redeemed and saving the girl's life: there's simply no possibility of accomplishing both. The only way to ensure her safety is through his own power. With his own hands, Cecil picks the girl up and places her on his back before making his way out of the forest and leaving behind the ruins of Mist.

He walks onward for hours, the vegetation life surrounding the two travelers becomes more scarce as he leaves the narrow mountain pass and travels through the wasteland. Finally, only the vast desert region remains to block his way to the oasis village of Kaipo. Even without his armor, the evening sun still emits an intense, dry heat that gives the dark knight more reason to wait for nightfall before going into the desert.

While resting, Cecil looks at the girl lying by his side. She seems to be recovering if her more tinted skin is any given indication. But he still wishes Rosa was with him, at the very least to get an expert analysis on the girl's condition. He then notices the girl's eyes opening just a crack, the expression on her face tight and full of strain. It makes him realize how much time has passed since they first set out, and though he wished to have saved them for later, Cecil feeds her a considerable portion of the scarce rations he carries.

The girl soon laxes back to a quiet sleep, allowing Cecil's attention to focus on the huge obstacle in front of him. The flat, featureless desert stretches on endlessly: no landmarks, no wildlife, nothing besides miles of sand can be seen. The rational part of his mind voices its concerns again and this time its reasoning is completely justified. There's only enough provisions left for one more intake and no shelter will be found against the desert sun if they don't make it to Kaipo by tomorrow morning.

One day. It won't just be the girl's life that's at stake anymore. If he enters the desert unprepared as he is, he'll die. Die in a place where his body may never be found, never to be mourned. Die for a reason no one may ever know. Die in disgrace without ever achieving anything, not even this solitary goal.

Cecil breaks out of his thoughts and jolts to a stand, fearing he'll lose the last shred of integrity within himself if he remained sitting. The dark knight paces about without thought as he waits for the last of the sun's rays to fall under the earth. The sky soon darkens and Cecil makes his final preparations by ripping apart the sleeves of his tunic. He then wears the tore clothe as a hood and face guard in order to ward off the sun and the sand-blown wind.

Lugging the girl back on his back, he continues on. Instincts alone carry him across the vast regions of nowhere with all of his hopes pinned on the salvation offered by the oasis village.

_

* * *

"Hot... too hot..."_

From deep within the void, her awareness arises once more yet she only awakens to continue experiencing this pain. The light that burns everything away hovers above her. Relentless and unforgiving, as if to clearly convey its intentions: that there is no means of escape. But the heat soon lessens as she vaguely feels herself being shifted until she rests under a cooler shade. The air is still hot all around her but at least it has become tolerable enough to endure. Just as she registers the aching dryness in her throat, refreshing water quenches her thirst and further eases her suffering.

Her eyelids feel heavy as she tries opening her eyes. Through the thin slit of her vision, she manages to see a dark figure before her. However, her weariness won't allow her to grasp a clearer picture, and the stark contrast between the figure's shadow and the surrounding, blinding light makes it impossible to distinguish any of the person's features. All too soon her sight starts to narrow. Try as she might, she is unable to stop the process of her eyes closing shut.

Emptiness fills her mind once more, leaving behind a final thought for her mysterious guardian, _"Next time... for sure... I'll see..."_

* * *

The girl consciousness fades yet again and leaves Cecil with only the empty leather flask in his hands, not a single drop of water remains within it. Every pore of his own body emits waves of raising heat; no longer does he have the reserves to even sweat. His eyes unwittingly narrow into an accusing glare at the girl in his arms, however, he looks away and forces that impulse down, continuing to trend through the desert sand while the sun blazes high above them.

_ "Just a little more..."_ Cecil repeats like a mantle as his eyes roam the outer reaches of the desert in the vain attempt of spotting the oasis village. Yet soon after, a hard realization overcomes him as a separate set of mountain ranges become visible along the horizon: he had long ago overshot the distance.

The dark knight's eyes vacantly look around, if for any other reason than to keep himself from falling into utter despair. But despite all dashed hopes, he happens to catch sight of something green only a few meters behind him. He rubs at his tired eyes, not believing what he's seeing. Before him stands the famed creature known as the cactuar, a living plant about the size of a willowy child who's most prominent feature is the life-giving water inside its body!

Cecil sets the girl down and unsheathes his sword. Taking all precautions not to let this last chance slip away, he slowly and carefully approaches the creature. The cactuar simply watches the dark knight even as he comes to stand directly in front of it. Cecil raises his sword with both hands high into the air and waits, becoming as still as the creature before him. The cactuar merely stare up at him in response, as if this was a contest to see who can best impersonate a stone statue. Then, its black hollow eyes blink, signaling the flash of his sword as it falls swift and sure.

But even that isn't fast enough to smite down his prey. As if watching still frames of motion, Cecil's swing is only a hair away from splitting the creature's head open, yet in less than a second the cactuar moves completely off the blade's path. It hops about and dashes in place, kicking up the sand below its feet as it taunts the dark knight into trying his luck again. Cecil attempts to slash the infuriating creature 5 more times but each swing brings him no closer to hitting it than the previous strike. Panting heavily, he makes one more feeble thrust that falls short of its target before dropping down on all fours. Seeing its playmate has become too exhausted to keep up their little game, the cactuar waves its arm and bids its adversary farewell before running off into parts unknown.

Biting back his frustration and dismay, the dark knight stands back up and mindlessly makes his way back to the unconscious girl while the sun's rays sizzles down upon the two travelers. Though the distance between them is short, the gap barely feels like it's reducing as Cecil continues to drag his feet towards her. His vision blurs and sways left to right before falling forward, his body hitting the scorching sand just as his mind forcefully shuts down on him.

_

* * *

"Cecil... Kain..."_ Rosa calls out in her mind as she squeezes both her staff in her right hand and the shaft of Kain's broken spear in the other.

It has already been a day since Rosa first arrived in Mist. The kingdom of Baron had felt the slight tremors yesterday morning, and the cleric tried writing it off as a mere coincidence unrelated to the two knights' venture into the valley. Yet her hidden suspicions gained more validation as the hours passed by with neither Cecil nor Kain returning from their mission. A search party was assembled soon afterward and she had quickly volunteered to go along with the entourage as its resident healer.

When she entered the valley, however, Rosa grew sickeningly worried her services were unnecessary as she took in the sight before her. Massive tons of rocks and gravel laid missing from the northern mountain slope as they could be found burying a good half of the valley. At the center of the ruins, the very earth was brutally mutilated as hundreds of cracks ran throughout the face of the land. As for the village, there wasn't a single structure that stood more than a meter high, either by having its foundation knocked over or being reduced entirely to ashes.

Even though she was used to the sight, Rosa still needed a moment to compose herself after she witnessed the sheer number of causalities within the valley. Many of the dead, both human and monster alike, were found allow the village borders and formed a definite arc away from the devastating land destruction. From the townspeople's ashen remains, it was terribly easy to figure out that the vast majority of them died due to inflammation. And after taking a moment to examine the bomb corpses' dried, hardened skin, the cleric had deduced their own life flame was somehow completely extinguished.

When she had found some of the monsters bearing wounds inflicted by weapons, Rosa grew more hopeful yet as they continue searching the area only to turn up more dead bodies, a little more of that hope dies. The wait – the constant struggle to remain calm in the face of dire possibilities – is slowly killing her. Only recently did the soldiers dig up Kain's spear and the weapon's broken condition left her remaining hopes dangling by a thread. Now the cleric finds herself clinging every time the soldiers beckon her, telling her of their findings.

"Lady Rosa!" a echoing voice calls from above. She quickly looks up at a tall, uprising land ledge and sees a lancer from Kain's platoon gazing down at her; his right hand at the the side of his mouth while his left hand points a thumb behind his shoulder, "There's something over there that you should go see..!"

The cleric carefully weaves around the various sections of uplifted earth and deep pitfalls as she anxiously goes to where the soldier had indicated. Upon arriving at the solid base of the landslide, she immediately spots something foreign to her sight that she wasn't expecting to find since she first arrived.

Patches of green grass were left untouched by the great fire and now lay underneath the mountain rubble that is currently being excavated. Many of the soldiers seem to disappear into the small hole, and it isn't until Rosa looks inside before she realizes there are already sizable rooms and passages that allow them to move about freely under the landslide. Two soldiers soon come out of the tunnel carrying the body of a dead woman and they set her down on the ground besides the cleric.

Unlike all the other victims, she is the only person Rosa has seen thus far who carries no traces of burn marks anywhere on her body. The cleric places her staff over the corpse and is slightly taken aback as she discovers her magic producing no results. She begins stripping the pale woman down, more for confirmation than anything else, and finds a dreadfully deep cut running across the corpse, _"I see... So it was Cecil after all..."_

Rosa's heart sinks a little upon knowing the cause yet being unable to see the reason. The damage was definitely caused by a secret technique the king passed down to Cecil. It is a sword skill renowned for both its amazing cutting powers and projectile-like capabilities, however, there's one additional ability that the dark knight alone is privilege to. Wounds inflicted by the Corrosion of Darkness cannot be healed even long after the victim expires, and nothing in the ways of ancient magecraft or modern alchemy seem capable of lifting such an unforgivable curse. But there's still one detail that arouses the cleric's confusion, "Something isn't right... Even if she was struck down by the Corrosion, her clothes shouldn't have remained intact like this. So how is this possible..?"

"Lady Rosa! Your most urgent attention!" one of the Red Wings soldiers shouts from inside the tunnel as they hastily bring out another person and carefully sets him face down on the ground.

The azure armor the man is wearing quickly tips Rosa off as to the identity of the individual and she surprisingly exclaims, "Oh my... Kain!"

The dragoon turns his head towards the voice and weakly mutters, "... Ro...zaaa..?"

The cleric brings out a vial she had prepared beforehand and feeds Kain the red liquid. Though the extent of his wounds far exceeds the potion's potency, it's still capable of providing temporary relief to the injured dragoon. After having drunk the contents of the vial, Kain's expression immediately eases and his muscles lax. The cleric then runs her staff over the dragoon, able to read and scan the layout of his body due to the disperse mana that seeps out from his injuries.

"System severity... as expected... Third degree burns spread throughout his entire back... Patches of fourth concentrated on his shoulder, some reaching all the way to the bone... Going deeper... Spine shattered in several places... likely paralyzed from the neck down... And here, the most difficult... Something engraved, running deep into his skin... Strange... not the same... foreign to the body... this material..?"

"How is he, Lady Rosa?" A voice from outside her range inquires but the cleric tones it out.

"... Back of skull... a slight fracture... thankfully not as bad as the spine, only enough to cause disorientation... His left arm also... dislocated as well..."

"Lady Rosa..?" the voice, sounding different from the one before, calls out.

"...

...

..."

The cleric softly exhales as she rests her staff on the dragoon's back, "You needn't worry. While his wounds are excessive and excruciating to be sure, so long as Kain is monitored and regularly treated his injuries shouldn't turn life-threatening."

The soldiers around her breath a sign of relief before going back to search for the other missing captain, allowing Rosa to focus on healing her injured friend. She recites the single verse needed to quickly initiate the Cura spell and repeats the chant in a soft murmur to retain its effect. The pulsating light glowing from the head of the staff regulates the chaotic mana until it flows back into its natural rhythm, which in turn restrengthens the body enough to heal its own injuries. With the continuous aid of white magic, it would take a normal person a few days to make a full recovery. But because of Kain's ineptitude to the mystic arts, a far greater period of time is needed. Looking at his sorry condition, Rosa wishes she had practiced more in the ways of alchemy so that she could better aid her friend as well as those like him.

The cleric continues working in silence, afraid of the answer she might hear if she poses the burning question in her heart. Her need to know soon wins over her ominous fears, however, and she quietly asks her friend, "Kain... what happened? Do you know what became of Cecil?"

The dragoon's body stiffens upon hearing her inquiries. Nevertheless, he begins to recount his last moments of recollection.

* * *

_One by one, Kain took down the bombs in front of him, trying frantically to create an opening that would have allowed the two knights to escape from their predicament. His concentration solely focused on the task at hand, the dragoon never expected any danger to attack him directly from behind; not until the stabbing pain at his back shattered the complete trust he had for his best friend. Straining, he turned his head and saw a bomb with its jaws clamped around the armor plates of his left shoulder. With his dominant arm restrained, Kain grabbed the spear's shaft with his right hand and drove the reverse end of it into the monster's chin. However, as he witnessed the flaming creature glowing brighter and its body collapsing into itself, the dragoon came to a horrifying realization._

_ He didn't kill it in one stroke._

_ The bomb exploded in a great fireball and drove the dragoon violently into the ground, the blast shattering the majority of his spear into a rain of tiny iron shards. Kain tried to get back on his feet but both the sheathing agony of his body and the blistering headache he was experiencing made it an impossible task for him to do so quickly. The monsters saw their golden opportunity and pounced on the fallen warrior, coming in from every possible direction. Surprisingly calm, Kain steeled himself for the inevitable end. But something strange caught his eyes as he laid on his back and gazed overhead._

_ A glowing yellow circle was suspended in the sky high above, and something incredibly large and bulky was rapidly descending into the middle of the village. Kain braced himself just as the huge object smashed into the ground, creating a massive shock wave that savagely scattered everything away from it. While the dragoon was merely sent tumbling five meters backwards, most of the unprepared bombs were blasted away and instantly destroyed due to the ferocious winds._

_ Kain slowly sat up and took a good look at the fallen object only to find its figure more closely resembled that of a human than anything else. It looked as if it was craved directly from the earth yet the way the creature moved, the way that it breathed, didn't make it seem artificial at all. It stood at about ten meters in both width and height, the surface of its dirt-colored skin bulging with unrestrained muscle on every square inch of its blocky body._

_ The dragoon suddenly took notice of the remaining bombs as they shot pass him from behind, ignoring his presence in the face of their greatest threat for survival. The flaming creatures all banded together to take down the gigantic golem, but that only led to their downfall being all the swifter._

_ With a primal roar, the giant drove both of its fists into the ground, causing the already unstable fragments of the earth to rise and collapse wildly. Many of the bombs were mercilessly brutalized and impaled by countless columns and shards of uplifted earth while the few surviving were then swallowed into the makeshift abyss. Desperate not to share the same fate, Kain forced his agonizing body to jump awkwardly to one side before the land fell underneath him. But the golem caught sight of his flight; its murky, pupil-less eyes trained entirely on him._

_ The giant ran its massive fingers through the earth and sprayed dozens of sizable land clumps in the general direction of the dragoon. Knowing he couldn't dodge them all, Kain successfully planted his feet on one of the first incoming projectiles and used it as stepping stone to jump even higher, avoiding the rocky barrage as it harmlessly whizzed by underneath him. The dragoon kept his eyes on the ground and carefully watched the giant's next move, but he became distracted upon spotting the small figure of Cecil amidst all of the chaos below. A few seconds later, however, the ledge his friend was precariously hanging onto crumpled and he dropped into the ravine along with the Mist girl._

_ "Cecil!"_

_ Kain's horrified screams died in his throat as an impossibly deep shadow suddenly immersed his airborne body. The dragoon only needed to look up to see an enormous strip of earth come hurling towards him, the titanic object easily covering the entire range of his vision. All he could do was futilely raise his forearms over his head before the twirling piece of land swatted him down right out of the sky._

_ The dragoon fell fast, his unprotected back crashing through the undamaged house's roof and into the wooden floor below. Every strand of muscle in his body ached with renewed agony and his consciousness was quickly fading. The last thing Kain heard was the booming collision of earth striking earth, unaware of the mountain avalanche descending down upon him._

* * *

"No..!" the cleric intensely whispers as the healing light from her staff flickers for a brief moment before stabilizing into a fainter glow. Rosa's gaze goes far off as she hazily asks, "Kain, are you absolutely sure..? Maybe you're just not remembering right?"

Kain clamps his jaw shut and softly shakes his head, indicating his own wish that it were so. The cleric's eyes fog up before she is able to turn away, yet her moment of silence is interrupted as she witnesses the light of her Cura spell grow weaker until it dims into nothing. Soon after, a mysterious figure arrives and announces a statement that makes light of the solemn atmosphere, "Well, well. Seems there is a survivor after all."

Rosa and Kain both look up and see a large, imposing man before them. A miniature fortress, impenetrable yet mobile, is the cleric's first impression as even she, a person lacking any knowledge of metalworks, can see the unbelievable sturdiness of his heavy armor. Its color is that of a bottomless black, as if even the tiniest of light that strikes it vanishes from all existence. Contrary to all appearances, however, Rosa is aware of the man's capacity and where it truly lies, for those with an advance level of sorcery are able to sense their own kind. It's obvious by the staggering pool of mana he eludes, so thick it's nearly tangible to her eyes. This man before her is a magician, one who exceeds even those of the highest of caliber she has ever known.

"I see, so she was the cause..." the mysterious man quietly notes to himself as he takes one look at the corpse besides the cleric. He then looks at the dragoon, his next words coming out more like a demand than a question, "You. Were there any others who survived the firebomb?"

Caught unaware, Rosa and Kain could only stare at the intruder until some sort of realization washes over the dragoon's face. He glares at the armored man before him and responds with a question of his own, "And just who are you to be integrating me?"

"I possess every right to question those who are my inferior," the mysterious man states. There was no arrogance or grandeur in his declaration, it was merely spoken as if it were the most obvious fact.

"What..!" Kain voices with indignity but whines in pain as he tries to get up.

"Stop it!" Rosa suddenly exclaims as she looks up to address the intruder while gently pushing her friend back down, "Don't you see he's hurt? You only succeed in further aggravating his injuries."

"Hooo..." the mysterious man mutters as he stares at the cleric in mild amusement, yet his attention is soon diverted as a familiar, decorated figure briskly walks into the evacuation site.

"The both of you should learn your place and show this man the proper respect," Baigan interjects as he steadily approaches the group, "However, this one instance can be overlooked given your absence from the kingdom. The man before you is Lord Golbez, captain of the Red Wings fleet and chief commander of Baron's military forces."

Rosa is taken aback while Kain experiences heavier shock upon hearing the announcement. Somewhat baffled, the cleric insists, "Surely I must have misheard. You must know, Sir Baigan, that it is Cecil who occupies the station which this man supposedly holds."

"No mistake I assure you. After displaying direct defiance towards his highness yesterday evening, Cecil was effectively relieved of his duties as lord captain, thereby leaving the position open for one far more deserving," the royal guards' captain says with vindictive glee, "It comes to no surprise that he withheld such information from his colleagues. But if you require further verification, I believe Sir Kain would be more than happy to oblige you."

Stunned, Rosa looks directly at Kain, her eyes searching for answers. But the dragoon doesn't meet her gaze as he turns away in shame, and that alone was enough to provide the proof behind Baigan's story.

"And in light of our recent findings, it was quite the correct decision his highness had made," Baigan finishes by adding before he turns to address the tyrant, "If I may, Lord Golbez?"

"Report."

"Yes, my lord. Our men have finally reached the other side of the canyon and they have found evidence that one of the ruined homes was thoroughly ransacked after its collapse. Upon further inspection, they found pieces of discarded black armor inside a well, yet the dark knight was nowhere to be found within the vicinity. I must say that such a strange, peculiar incident implies neither an accident nor a necessity if Cecil was still upholding the kingdom's decree."

Though Baigan's implication wasn't meant to invoke such a reaction, both Rosa and Kain stare in disbelief upon receiving the news. It isn't long before the cleric's eyes fog up again, only this time, it's for a reason she has no quarrels of shedding tears for, "Cecil's alive! Thank heavens he's alive..."

"So my predecessor has survived as well, yet he felt the need to run. I wonder, why is that so?" Golbez questions out loud yet the tone in his voice bears no hint of confusion. He again lies his focus on Kain, his gaze piercing and sharp, "Surely you can enlighten us on his motives."

"..."

"No? Are you so incompetent that you're unable to hazard even a guess? Or perhaps there's more to this situation you don't care to reveal."

Both Golbez and Baigan bear the full weight of their stare onto the dragoon and even Rosa looks on, her breath withheld as she anxiously awaits his answer. She knows well enough the situation Kain is in and anything he discloses now can incriminate either him or Cecil for life in the eyes of the kingdom. What felt like several sunlit hours later, her friend finally gathers his words and speaks, "... Probably because there was another who survived along with him. A child, likely this woman's daughter."

"A child you say?" the royal guards' captain questions as his eyes sweep over the surrounding area in sheer amazement, "And you're saying this girl was powerful enough to have survived all of this?"

"... No... Most of the citizens fell within a matter of seconds after the initial assault... The girl was saved only because she was blessed with the protection of this woman here. Had it not been for that, she wouldn't be alive otherwise," Kain says as he directs a heated glare at the tyrant before him.

Golbez stares back dryly as he seems to circumcise each and every one of the his words for any falsehood the dragoon may have spoken. After a long, tense moment he turns and walks away, apparently satisfied with what he didn't find. Baigan takes notice of this and closes his discussion with one of his men before he obediently follows after the tyrant. Though they have moved a fair distance away, Rosa is still able to hear their conversation as the royal guards' captain calls out, "Lord Golbez. I have just taken the liberty of sending a scouting party to pursue Cecil. What will your orders be should our traitorous dark knight elude them?"

"There will be none."

"W-What..?"

"Did you not hear me?" Golbez questions as he stops and begins to turn. Baigan is ready to object but a hard glare from the tyrant causes him to visibly backpedal, "You also have the audacity to move the troops and are only now asking for my approval?"

"B-b-but my lord. It's standard procedure to capture all renegades and bring them back to await trial," Baigan weakly protests before another thought occurs to him, "And the residents of Mist..! His highness ruled that—"

"My decree is the king's will. You'll do well to remember this," Golbez interrupts with absolute authority. The tyrant's gaze seems to drift back towards Rosa, or to be more accurate at the woman lying besides her, as he states, "The prime objective was successful for the most part, and there are far more pressing matters in need of attendance. Whatever merits he may have been hailed for in the past, this Cecil is now just a mere deserter harboring a lone child from a lost tribe. Neither one is of any consequence, and therefore, they are unworthy of my attention."

"Y-yes. I beg your pardon, my lord..."

Baigan again bows his head deeply towards Golbez, much to Rosa's continued astonishment, _"To command such obedience from a prideful man like Baigan... Just who in the world is this man?"_

But the cleric is given no more time to ponder such matters, however, as Baigan's booming voice disrupts her thoughts, "Everyone! Fall in formation! We're moving out!"

"Wait a moment..!" Rosa quickly yells as she gets on her feet and makes her way towards the two men. Even while standing, she still needs to tilt her head to look at Golbez who towers over her by at least a foot, "There is still the matter of those here who have passed on. It would be inhumane to simply leave them as they are."

"Hmph!" Baigan grunts as he takes it upon himself to answer for the tyrant, "We've no time to waste on such trifles."

Reigning in her rising indignity, Rosa turns to the royal guards' captain and responds with disciplined courtesy, "As you say, Sir Baigan. Doesn't Baron's code of conduct demand recourse for the citizens of Mist, especially considering our involvement?"

Unimpressed, the royal guards' captain thinly states, "Perhaps that would be the proper protocol to take – if we were still living in times of peace. But it seems being out here digging through the dirt has left you woefully ignorant of our current state of affairs. We are at war."

"What..?" Rosa fadingly asks, "With whom?"

"Why, all those who don't carry the mighty banner of Baron of course," Baigan sheers, taking pride in his words as well as pleasure in seeing the cleric's distress, "In other words, cleric: complete unification under the kingdom's rule."

Rosa takes a step back, her head swimming with the recent revelations, _"Just one day... How can all of this occur in so little time..?"_

So many things have been happening so quickly: the mindless slaughter, the advent of this man known as Golbez, her love's defection and now the kingdom's declaration of war against the rest of the world. The cleric grips the fabric over her chest with her free hand as she hangs onto the last stability within her life, "... Even so, these people still deserve this final respect. All the more so since there isn't anyone but us who can carry out this duty."

His eyes narrowing, the royal guards' captain prepares to make a scathingly rebuttal but is interrupted by the man besides him, "Leave it be, Baigan."

Wonder-struck, both Rosa and Baigan look up at Golbez, however, the man walks away before the cleric can make eye contact with him. Baigan hurries to his side and buzzes around him, seeming nonplus as he continues carrying a one-man conversation with the silent tyrant. Rosa watches them leave, a fleeting image of the dark knight's back suddenly imposing itself over Golbez's frame. She shakes her head slightly and wonders at the thought. Even though their outer appearances look somewhat similar, their personality and mannerism makes up the resounding difference that sets them both worlds apart.

The cleric breaks out of her musings as she takes note of the many soldiers gathering around her, possibly having caught the conversation that just occurred. A man who Rosa recognizes as lieutenant of the Red Wings walks up to her, a good measure of regard and appreciation on his face as he says, "Allow us to handle the heavy labor, Lady Rosa, as your assistance will prove more beneficial in aiding Sir Kain."

"Yes," a voice echoes from the sky. Rosa looks up just in time to see the same lancer from before land gently besides her, "We'll make sure everyone receives a proper burial. So please take care of the captain in our stead."

The cleric ducks her head. She wants to feel relieved, wants to feel happy for achieving this small victory. But because of her position here, she can no longer go anywhere else, not to the place she truly wishes to be. She shakes off and suppresses this selfish feeling, _"It's enough to know he's alive..._

... Then I'll graciously leave this to you all," Rosa responds after a good while and gives a nod to everyone present. Her eyes then gaze off into distant, redden horizon, offering a last prayer for Cecil's safety before going back to fulfill her duties.

* * *

_"Agghh... Wha..?"_

An overwhelming sense of deja vu sweeps over Cecil as he begins to regain his bearings. The first thing his mind registers is the feeling of moist humidity all around him. The dark knight opens his eyes and sees grains of sand darkened to a muddy brown. And as he turns on his back, it isn't long before he discovers the cause.

Mist.

A thin veil of it surrounds both him and the girl, protecting them against the light of the desert sun, _"So that's why... it was you. At that time too..."_

Cecil slowly sits up and peels through the mist, expecting to catch sight of the dragon's silhouette again. But no matter how long he waits, not a single shadow appears from the mist nor does he feel the same lingering presence emitting from anywhere within it.

The dark knight lets out a sigh, whether it was one of disappointment or relief he can't really say. There's so many things he wants to explain, yet he doesn't know if he can handle the encounter. Just wondering about the type of eyes that will cast judgment upon him, Cecil can't help but be overcome with apprehension. The dragon did save his life twice already but it was with sound reason. To rely on its killer in order to accomplish what the dragon could not, he believed that to be the only plausible explanation.

_ "Still, to go beyond the brink of death..."_

Even if no one is there to receive the gesture, Cecil straightens himself up and bows his head with utmost sincerity. No matter the reason, he feels grateful for the dragon's assistance, all the more so if he hasn't received its forgiveness.

The dark knight raises his head and looks around, still finding himself in the same bleak predicament as he was in before. He looks back to the visible mountain ranges, wondering if he should change destinations to ensure they reach civilization, _"... No. Even though the underground caverns supposedly leads to the kingdom of Damcyan, it's just too far... It'll still take several days by foot to reach the desert kingdom, days we simply don't have."_

Just then, a thought strikes Cecil as he absently presses his palms against the dampened sand. He mulls over the idea, and though it's one of the few remaining options available to him, it also happens to be the one with the highest chance for success, _"50/50 under the best conditions... But if I'm unable to find it... or if it's not even there..."_

Cecil shakes his head, clearing it of such thoughts. This second opportunity granted to him won't go to waste. It's no longer about ifs or cans, it's simply a matter of must. His resolve strong, he wastes no time in lugging the girl on his back and carrying on, the direction of his travels running perpendicular to his first track into the desert.

The dark knight moves with a delicate balance of being neither too desperate or overly cautious, to make haste that will cross the miles yet to take care in each of his steps. And instead of hopelessly searching the far scape, his eyes are cast downward at the nearby sands below. Doubt creeps into his mind on numerous occasions yet he doesn't waver, reminding himself that this was the surest way of reaching the village oasis. After a few hours of walking, his efforts are rewarded as Cecil feels something solid under the sand making contact with his feet. He stomps on the spot to make sure he isn't imagining the sensation and becomes ecstatically thrilled upon feeling the packed weight of the earth beneath him. He then scrutinizes the ground and is just able to barely make out a long, recently wore path in the sand; the same trail nomads use to migrate between Kaipo and Damcyan.

Cecil follows the path that seemingly leads into nothing more than endless desert and it isn't until several hours later before he spots the village along the sandy road. Feverishly running the rest of the way, the dark knight staggers into Kaipo and quickly locates the only building that could possibly be open at this time of night. Banging on the door, he doesn't need to wait long before it opens, revealing two women that express clear shock upon seeing both Cecil and the girl's dreadful condition.

Though his throat is abysmally dry, the dark knight manages to choke out, ".Ro... room and board please..."

The younger of the two women regains her bearings and is the first to speak, "Y-yeah, alright. For two people, it's going to come to 350 Gils."

Cecil reflexively reaches into his pockets, stops and blinks twice. He fumbles through the empty folds yet feels nothing inside them besides the little black box he had taken from his room. The young woman adjusts her glasses and scowls, noticing the white haired man before her is dirt poor. But before she can response, the older woman interjects, "It's quite alright. Just go down this corridor here and turn left into the west wing. There should be a vacant room all the way down the hall."

"Grandma..!"

"Oh hush up now, Farrah," the elderly woman turns to her granddaughter and chides, "This inn is meant to shelter those in need, and it's obvious these folk need it more than any other."

The girl named Farrah seems put off by her grandmother's words but makes no further protests. Cecil thanks the innkeeper before walking inside and making his way to the room. Upon entering, he lies the girl on the bed further away from the door while he occupies the other one besides hers, relieved to be finally off his feet. A few minutes later, a stern knock behind him rouses the dark knight and he turns to see the innkeeper's grandchild walking in with food and water in her hands.

"Breakfast isn't served until 9, but the innkeeper insisted that I bring these leftovers to you," Farrah says as she crudely leaves the tray at the bottom of Cecil's bed.

With the little tack he can muster, the dark knight reaches over and drinks a tall glass of water in a single gulp before composing himself enough to give a proper response, "Thank you. You've already both done so much for us."

"No kidding," the young woman remarks as she walks out of the room and, with a bit more force than necessary, shuts the door behind her.

Cecil looks at the door, a small measure of guilt ridden on his face, as he helps himself to several of the slightly stale bread rolls. He then helps feed the bowl of cream soup and some water to the unconscious girl, her face again showing less strain upon having eaten. Feeling both incredibly exhausted and satisfyingly full, the dark knight flops down on his bed and no sooner does his head hit the pillow does he drift off to sleep.

* * *

Groaning, Rydia wakes up to an unfamiliar ceiling, her mind foggy and full of static haze. She blinks rapidly, adjusting to the incredible brightness, and soon enough her vision clears yet her surroundings only become more strange and alien to her.

"Oh, finally awoken have you?"

Rydia turns towards the voice and sees a old lady seated down by her bedside while holding a wet rag in her hands, an easy smile etched on her wrinkled face. She looks pass the woman and sees another girl, really skinny and who looks to be about 5 or 6 years older than herself, standing a few feet away with her arms crossed and her expression hard. Rydia tries sitting up from the bed but plops back down, the long disuse of her muscles and limbs bringing about the following result.

"There's no need to overexert yourself, dear. Your safe here, so just relax."

Rydia brings the covers up to her face as she gazes around the room once more before squeaking out, "... W-where am I?"

"This is the oasis village of Kaipo and your inside the Miran Inn. My name is Marie, the innkeeper, and this is my granddaughter, Farrah, who helps with the upkeep of this place," the lady explains as she first gestures to herself and then to the teenager who gives a curt nod in response, "I hope we didn't frighten you, dear. It's our policy not to intrude on our guests, but neither you nor your companion were answering our calls so we thought it best to make an exception."

_ "What? A friend..?"_

Puzzled, it isn't until the girl glances to her utmost right before she spots the person in question. There lies an unusual stranger sleeping soundlessly on the next bed besides her, his light features perfectly blending in and complimenting the warm background of the tranquil room. The first thing that strikes Rydia right away is the man's hair. Unlike the ragged gray the aged innkeeper sports, the strands that nip at his shoulders are the brilliant color of pure ivory. He still looks rather youthful, though the slight underlining creases found on his face give him a look of worn and weathered maturity. As Rydia watches the soft raise and fall of his chest, she takes notice that while the stranger's body is lean, it is also strong; somewhat similar to the farmers back in her village except he looks capable of doing more than simple fieldwork.

"He's a real heavy sleeper. Hasn't moved a single inch for all the time we've been here," the teenager comments as she pushes the bridge of her glasses up with a finger, her expression growing a bit regretful as she ponders, "Guess it makes sense though, since you guys looked like warmed-over death when you first came in."

Marie nods in agreement and slyly adds, "The two of you are free to stay for another night, so just focus now on getting well again."

Her mind still feeling weary and muddled, the girl is about to lie back down but notices Farrah looking more sour and resentful than before, "What? Not enough for you to be thankful for? But then again, we're just doing all this at our own expense, right?"

Not expecting the sudden hostility, Rydia hesitantly responses, "Oh..! U-m..."

"Must you start this again, Farrah?" Marie questions, turning to address her granddaughter as the caller looks on.

"I start this because you keep doing this! Each and every time, you're just begging to be taken advantage of, and I'm just blown away as to why you haven't learned yet!"

"Farrah," the innkeeper stresses her name heavily, "Do you honestly believe these folk are the same as them? That they would go so far just to deceive us out of a free meal and bed?"

Unable to grasp an immediate response, the teenager cools down considerably, though the look on her face indicates her unwillingness to simply let the matter go, "... Well, no. But why is it that our regulars who've helped keep the business running for years have to pay good money while these stranglers get to stay for free? How exactly is this fair for them? They'd be real displeased, and have every right to be, if word of all your charity cases ever got out."

The innkeeper lets out a sigh that bellows infinite patience before speaking, "If you truly feel this way, that just lending out a helping hand endangers our livelihood, then by all means you should be the one to tell them so and have them evicted immediately."

The teenager flinches back, scowls and retorts, "That's not fair, grandma, saying that now and leaving me to do the dirty work while you still get to play the saint."

"Such an awkward child you are, expecting me to follow your advice when you're unable to do the same," Marie throws back at the teenager while she wearily shakes her head, "If you have no further suggestions, then why not try being more productive and getting some actual work done around here instead of carrying on with your complaints?"

Farrah directs a sharp glare towards the woman for a second before she gives a reply laced with sarcasm, "Sure. Since we're being all-so helpful, how about I go readjust the budget now and start cutting back on all of our own needs? Maybe then we won't be hitting the red for this month: yet again."

A resounding *Bam!* fills the room following the teenager's exit. Marie scowls with disapproval, her eyes staring at the open door as if still witnessing the afterimages of her granddaughter's departure. She then turns to address the bedridden girl, "You'll have to excuse her. She's really a gentle girl who cares for the plight of others more than she let's on, but our recent troubles have caused her to become more distrustful, more wary of the people around her."

Rydia looks down. She wasn't able to follow the entire conversation but she does pick up on the main issue behind their argument, "But having us here causes problems for you, right?"

Smiling a bit sadly, Marie replies, "You needn't fret over it, dear. Such a matter is for us adults to resolve. For now, just get some rest."

As the aged innkeeper stands and makes ready to leave, something out of place within the room catches the caller's attention. A cross, or something resembling one, can be found leaning against the wall on the far side of the stranger's bed. A vague feeling prompts Rydia to stop looking yet her eyes can't help but be drawn to the object. Having long realized it's only a small part of a greater whole, she continues drinking in every detail that's within her view, tracing each fine line of its unique structure until the crafted metal becomes thoroughly imprinted into her mind. Then suddenly, cold recognition hits Rydia like a tidal wave; her senses instantly numb as they leave with the breath that escapes her.

* * *

_The breath of fire saturating the air. Only a sliver of steel remained gleaming at the base of the blade, the thick black blood overflowing freely down its edge and dripping heavily onto the once-green earth.  
_

* * *

Her body quakes like a lone, late autumn leaf as the ignited memories begin reawakening.

* * *

_ Bearing the shape of a serpent was the man in radiant blue, his open mouthpiece the only indication that he was indeed a human being. The roar of fire and the savagery it brings. The dragon knight stood above it all, one of the monsters that had razed and desecrated her home still impaled on his extended fang, like it were the natural order of things._

_

* * *

_

Rydia forces her eyes shut yet it does nothing to stop the hot flashes from coming.

* * *

_It was sweltering all around her, yet gazing up at his form made her feel bone-chillingly cold. The harborer of death, bringer of the hellfire, the man donning the mask of a demon or perhaps it was a demon masquerading as a man. The wake of fire illuminates and ashes all. Everything but the glistening blackness of the shadow knight towering before her._

_

* * *

"ah—!"_ A mute cry, her last form of resistance before she looks back and finds herself breaking. Such a tiny sound doesn't even reach her own ears yet somehow her plead is answered. Delicate hands rest on her shoulders and the caller instinctively clings to the presence like a life preserver, burying her face deep into the person's bosom.

To feel the tangible touch of another, to be whispered soft and sweet nothings, to immerse herself in this warm embrace: all of these things help remind her body on where she's at. That she's living here in the present time, a place unreachable from her memories of the past.

It takes awhile before Rydia is able to settle down and when she does, the girl looks up and finds the person whom she's clinging to is Marie. In actuality, the innkeeper is at a complete loss regarding the girl's situation and the reason behind her extreme episode. But through the long years of similar practices and experience, the old woman is able to display an anchor of calmness and certainty.

"It must have been very difficult," Marie settles on saying as she continues stroking the back of the girl's head while grasping for the right words to say, "... Sometimes the best remedy to unburden your troubles is just by talking to someone who's willing to listen. So if there's anything you feel the need to say, I'm all ears."

Slowly, Rydia pulls away. It felt so good, unbearably so, just hearing those words. But she knows there isn't anything this kind, elderly lady can do that will ever make things right again. She's grown old, far too old now to be believing in that type of fantasy, "It's nothing..."

"... Is that right? Then I suppose this has nothing to do with your companion by any chance?" Marie hazards and upon seeing the look of open amazement on the girl's face, she smiles in self-satisfaction. Despite herself, Rydia can feel her hopes rising; if the woman is able to understand this much, then surely there's something she can do to help save her. However, those naive expectations are soon dashed as the innkeeper continues, "I thought so. Well, not to worry. He's simply exhausted from the toll the desert has taken upon him. Soon enough, he'll recover his strength and be up and about in no time."

The woman pats her knee in a reassuring manner, yet to Rydia it feels as if her legs are being weighed down under a pile of stones. Oblivious to the girl's state of mind, Marie continues without missing a beat, "To think the two of you managed to survive a trek through the desert... It's very fortunate that you both were able to arrive safely into Kaipo."

"N-No..! That—" the caller starts to say but abruptly trails off as a vague, yet familiar scene flashes in her mind. Darkness and light: it was all the blurry image comprised of, but it was enough to recall that dire situation,_ "That can't be right..."_

Continuous denial raids Rydia's thoughts even after Marie exits the room and leaves her alone with the slumbering stranger.

As if expecting the man to spring out of bed at any given moment, the caller keeps an excessive watch over him. However, she starts feeling more weary with each passing second as the rush of stimulation drains from her body. Rydia lies back down just to give her head a resting place but this in turn causes her eyes to drool down involuntarily. Up and down, up and down in a constant cycle, each raise of her eyelids coming slower and lower than the previous time until they at last close completely.

* * *

Rydia snaps awake and finds the bed next to hers empty, the covers on top sprawled untidily. That man isn't anywhere in the room, though the sword at his bedside indicates he simply didn't get up and leave. Carefully, she gets on her feet and wobbles a bit, still feeling a little groggy but otherwise much better than in the past few days prior.

She takes one more look around, reassuring herself that she is indeed alone. The caller then goes over to one of the two windows in the room, unfastens the lock and swings the window panel up in the hopes of catching an afternoon breeze, but she immediately closes it upon receiving the dry desert wind instead. Still feeling unreasonably hot, she glances outside yet most of her view is obscured by a cluster of nearby buildings.

The girl steps away and moves to the other window, finding the view to be far more spacious. From what she can tell, the inn appears to be an L-shaped building, though in actuality it is T-shaped in structure. The entrance can easily be seen from this vantage point and thanks to the large, connecting windows that run across the entire entryway, she can also make out a fair majority of what's inside. Simple, yet personalized decor lines the walls of the corridor. And though she isn't able to see it from her position, the narrow passageway ends at the reception desk where the fork then splits into two halls running in opposite directions. It's within both of these wings where the guest rooms are located.

As she continues looking outside, Rydia catches sight of the stranger coming back to the inn while carrying a tall stack of white covers and clean linens. No sooner does he step inside before Farrah stops him at the entryway and takes the pile in exchange for another dirty load. The man then leaves again with laundry in hand and walks back in the direction to where the oasis resides.

Rydia blinks slowly as if coming out of a trance; it was definitely a sight she wasn't expecting. Having seen the stranger perform such everyday duties causes a tight, unsettling feeling to well up inside. She feverishly shakes her head and stops the line of thought altogether. Even with this contradiction, he's still the same murderer who slaughtered her entire village. It doesn't mean a thing and it won't make a difference; all it does now is make her head ache.

The caller rests her arms and chin on the windowsill and gazes outside, the time quickly flying by. Her mind remains empty even as her eyes take in the scenery and the people who happen to be walking within the area. And during the times Rydia is able to see the stranger, she would simply sit there and watch him as he works.

Sometimes the stranger would leave the inn again for an hour or so and come back carrying goods like household utensils, jugs of water and other such foodstuff. Sometimes he would round one of the corners inside the building and vanish from her line of sight, the buzz of activity out in the hall still apparent even after his disappearance. Sometimes either Marie or Farrah would be seen instructing the shadow knight or just exchanging simple pleasantries with him. Whatever he was doing the stranger was always on the move, never seeming to take a breather.

There are no shadows in his actions; no ill intentions or hidden agendas that would justly explain why someone like him is exerting all of this effort. He's simply as he appears. The stranger is just earnestly working.

Rydia was so focused on him that she had failed to see Marie waving to her from a distance, the old woman having spotted her from across the building. The girl finally takes notice and is about to greet the woman back but her uplifted hand freezes as the shadow knight turns to see whom Marie is waving to. Their eyes meet for only a brief moment before the caller breaks contact by ducking down from the window.

Her heart races with rapid anxiety as her mind repeatedly tells her how stupid she's been. All this time she never considered her situation or given thought to the shadow knight's inevitable return. Now it's too late and any minute he'll come waltzing back in.

A set of angry footsteps making their way closer to her puts Rydia back on full alert. But what comes next is unexpected as the caller hears a familiar voice sound from outside the room, "Okayyyy... I'm not going to ask why you're out here staring at the door like it were the gallows or something, but if you have that sort of free time, how about using it to help with the dinner preparations?"

"Yes..." a muffled voice, distinctly male, responds closely through the door, "Just give me a moment and I'll be right over."

A huff of irritation is made before Farrah's voice is heard again, "Well fine, but hurry up! There's still plenty of work to be done around here."

The sound of stepping feet gradually grows fainter and after a few seconds, the door creaks open and Rydia hastily turns away. She hears someone take one step into the room and she can feel eyes lingering on her back. Two beats pass, then a man's voice speaks to her from across the room, "You're awake... So how are you feeling?

Still a bit ill..?

… Probably tired, I bet."

A short pause, then the stranger continues in a casual manner, "You know, I haven't caught your name yet."

"That's because you never asked," the caller thinks, annoyed. She holds back from saying the thought out loud and fixes her eyes on the wall in front of her, using her irritation to help fuel her silence.

Several seconds pass by and the stranger lets out a deflated sigh. After a moment he speaks again, no longer with the fake lightness in his voice, "I'm sorry. Truly sorry for all the pain you've endured... Your mother, the people of your village, everything... Everything that's happened to you I am solely to blame, so that's why... I...

Even if you can't forgive me... At least, let me protect you..."

Rydia had been quiet throughout the man's entire admission, not because of a stubborn refusal to talk but rather she had been listening to him speak. After receiving no response, the stranger steps out and she is once more alone inside the room.

_ "... So it was him after all..."_ the caller dejectedly thinks, allowing let this solitary thought out to herslef. Even though she knew he was the culprit, somewhere deep down she must have wanted to believe otherwise. If only it was all a mistake then everything else would be so much easier to deal with. She wouldn't be caught in this confusion, she wouldn't have to hate him.

The man returns an hour after sunset and wordlessly goes to bed. Having received plenty of rest these past few days, Rydia is unable to sleep and stays up well into the night. But the long hours of darkness eventually start wearing her down and just as the girl feels her eyelids drooping, a distinct, clamoring ruckus coming from outside the inn reawakens her.

Rydia wearily looks towards the sound and is surprised to see the stranger is already awake and standing by the front window, his back pressed against the wall with his head turned just enough for him to peek outside. Her uneasiness is soon multiplied as she catches sight of the sheathed sword in the man's hand, the moonlight reflecting off a small metallic portion of the slightly revealed blade.

The shadow knight suddenly turns to her direction and Rydia quickly reacts by shutting her eyes and pretending to be asleep. If he had seen the girl was awake, the man gives no indication of having noticed as he only looks upon her for just a moment before he steps out of the room while closing the door behind him. The sound of his footsteps soon grows distant and the caller hurries to where the stranger was at.

What she sees outside are three aggravated, armor-clad men trying to push pass Farrah and Marie who block the entryway into the inn. The soldiers' forceful attempts only last for a few more seconds before they cease as the shadow knight makes his appearance from down the corridor. They step away from the entrance as if to invite him outside, however, the man stops just shy from leaving walls of the building.

Though Rydia is too far away to be able to hear the group, the stranger says something to the women which causes their faces to deepen with dread. Marie stands there stunned and it takes Farrah's insistent prompting before the old woman moves from her spot.

After the two women retreat into the safety of the inn, the soldiers take a few steps towards the man, their encirclement around him shrinking a bit smaller. The long-faced soldier donning a helmet engages in a long, unheard dialogue with the shadow knight while the others look on.

The stranger shakes his head, his face stoic yet sober.

Helmet's mouth slips into a scowl, he asks another question.

The stranger gives a short reply, his expression unchanging.

Helmet stays deadly silent with a calculating look.

The bulky soldier with the bandanna straightens up, raising to his full height.

The headgear wearing soldier sharply interjects, gesturing wildly.

No immediate reply is made. Then, the shadow knight lays his palm to rest on the hilt of his sword.

He utters a single phrase.

The soldiers' goodwill vanishes in that instant and the air quickly grows thick with tension. They draw their weapons out, slow and methodical, and the stranger responds in kind. Yet nobody takes any further action in sparking the battle.

A few minutes pass and the men remain in this standstill. Rydia can at least understand why the stranger is on his guard but the soldiers' strategy baffles her. They already have the upper hand yet by exercising so much caution, the group makes no use of it. And they must know the man isn't dumb enough to openly attack them out in that wide-open area in this 3 on 1 fight.

But the caller soon finds out just how wrong she is. All of a sudden, something in the stranger's demeanor drastically changes and his expression turns grim. He reassesses the group in front of him, his eyes working. Then without warning he rushes towards Headgear, the furthest soldier from the pack.

Headgear responds by swinging his longsword down at his charging adversary but the man parries the attack away with the broad side of his blade and counters with a horizontal slice of his own. The soldier manages to pull back just far enough for the sword to whiff across his chest, however, he stumbles due to his displaced balance and hasty retreat. Before the shadow knight can capitalize, Helmet and Bandanna are already upon him, forcing the stranger to dodge the scimitar thrust to his stomach and narrowly duck under the mace strike meant to crush his ribcage. Helmet follows through with his lunge by delivering a fierce boot to the stranger's face, which causes Rydia to whine a bit upon witnessing the hit. But a well-guarded forearm and quick back step reduces much of the impact and the shadow knight is able to stand no worse for wear.

Bandanna, Headgear and Helmet get into closer formation in order to better coordinate their attacks. But the next move surprises both the soldiers and the battle's spectator as the stranger turns his back on the group and breaks out into a full run, sprinting back into the inn. Being swept up in the flow of battle, both Bandanna and Headgear follows, disregarding Helmet's orders as they chase after their fleeing adversary.

The shadow knight dashes through the narrow corridor, slashing away at the tables, portraits and other ornaments along the way. The fallen debris scarcely slows Bandanna or Headgear down yet it's enough to create the decisive gap, not between the pursuers and the pursued but between both soldiers who now vacate a few meters width of space.

Bandanna catches up to his opponent and rises his mace high, only a heartbeat away until he's within striking range. But just as the two men are about to pass the corridor's last window panel, it happens. Like the tide crashing into the cliff shores, the man lowers his center of gravity and skids to an abrupt stop, turning his body completely around in mid-slide while leaving his sword arm hanging back to its utmost extent. Such a sudden, seamless maneuver takes Rydia completely by surprise, so she isn't at all shocked to see Bandanna falter for just a split second at the unexpected action.

That slight hesitation is all it took to create a clear opening. The stranger's sword swings up in a crescent arc, tearing the tendons of Bandanna's left shoulder and causing a gush of blood to splash up into the ceiling. The dampened, yet heavy thud of the mace hitting the floor accompanies the soldier's straggled wails as he leans his body against the window while favoring the arm that dangles limply from his body.

Headgear and Helmet arrive a moment too late and feverishly attack their adversary, trying to make up their loss in numbers with willful, excessive force. This causes the stranger to be driven back further into the inn, and the battle moves to a location where the caller can no longer see from inside her room.

Rydia abandons her place at the window and presses an ear against the closed door, hearing the different pitches of *Clank!* and *Clang!* that marks the continuation of the battle unseen by prying eyes. The climax finally arrives in a rapid succession of clashing steel that reverberates loudly from inside the hall. And just as suddenly the noise abruptly dies, leaving a mute void to fill its place.

Several seconds pass without a sound, and the caller hesitantly considers opening the door but fear mixed with logic causes her instead to bolt down the lock. Then, Rydia hears something coming from outside and hurries back to the front window. She arrives just in time to see two of the soldiers fleeing the inn on their chocobo mounts, leaving the other half of the flock still waiting out by the stalls.

_ "But that's only two, what happened to the other one..?"_ Rydia wonders in hanging suspense. A slight shiver runs through her, the temperature feeling as if it had dropped down by several degrees, and the creeping silence rattles her further, disrupting her concentration on what she's missing. Before she can find the answer, the caller feels something at the back of her neck, something that should have been easily recognized yet her rationale couldn't completely grasp.

But it wasn't her imagination, it was definitely the wind. A cool breeze had blown passed her.

Just as she moves to turn, a coarse hand suddenly covers her month and yanks her off the ground while something distinctly cold and unforgivably sharp is pressed up against her neck.

"Don't move."

"—a...aa..h..!" the caller stands on trembling tiptoes struggling for air but fear of the dagger slitting her throat causes her to move not a millimeter lower.

Her assailant takes some time to look outside the window and a curse escapes his mouth, "Tsk! Those damn cowards..! Can't leave it to them to handle a simple diversion."

Rydia struggles to look up, wanting desperately to get away from the blade and to at least see her unknown assailant, but the only things she can make out within the darkness are the undersides of the soldier's unshaven chin and the bright red color of his headband. However, as if to oblige one of her unspoken wishes, her assailant looks down just as a dim blue glow filters through the window and the caller catches a hint of remorse pass over him. But the shadows soon return to eclipse the soldier's face, and that brief flicker felt more and more like a cruel trick played by the waning moonlight. Headband sets his gaze directly at her as he offers, "Nothing personal, girl."

She shuts her eyes away at the face of her own death. The seconds creep by and still she feels nothing: not the sickening sound of flesh rendering or the heavy odor of blood lingering in the air or the cruel agony she has come to associate with the dying. Nothing.

Gathering what little courage she can, Rydia cracks her eyes open and finds herself still inside the same dark room of the inn. She glances up and sees Headband, completely still with his eyes set forward as if tuning himself to match the mute atmosphere. The caller stands there motionless as well, afraid that the next slightest movement will draw his attention back to her. A short while later, Rydia hears the noise that had previously caught the soldier's attention.

It came from the hall, near the door. Headband grips her closer to ensure his only ace doesn't leave his hand. Dragging her along, he slowly slinks towards the opposite side of the room where the side window hangs open.

However, before they are even halfway across, a strained voice weakly speaks out in the hall and causes Headband to stop in his tracks, "U...ugh... B-Biggs..."

"Wedge..?" the soldier called Biggs whispers in disbelief. He inches closer to the door with Rydia in tow, the professional detachment in his voice breaking down a notch as he cautiously asks in a louder tone, "That you? What happened out there?"

"Biggs... d-don'... I'm... I—aaagghhhh!"

"..! Wedge..!"

Neglecting the potential dangers in the urgency of aiding his comrade, Biggs leans in and reaches for the lock with his dagger hand. But just as the bolts are unfastened, the door is violently kicked open and light instantly floods the room. The swing of the frame bangs into Biggs, his head taking the full impact, and the two of them reel back and fall on their behinds. Trapped in an arm lock, the soldier known as Wedge is pushed into the room and hits the floor hard, and the figure behind him quickly steps towards Rydia, pointing a beam of light above her head before Biggs can retract his dagger.

"Drop your weapon and let her go," the shadow knight says in such a way that broke no argument yet made no demands, it merely promised the grave repercussions should her assailant fail to heed his words. Wedge struggles underneath the stranger, but whatever plans he had are quickly extinguished along with his cries as the man stomps his left foot onto the soldier's injured shoulder. All the while the stranger's eyes never stray away from Biggs, his sword continuing to hover over the frightened girl while its dark, redden tip remains just a fraction away from her assailant's forehead.

Clammy sweat starts saturating Biggs' hand and the caller briefly thinks he just might curse again. A few beats pass before a sharp metallic noise resounds off the floor and the soldier's grip slackens. Rydia escapes from his grasp and quickly moves away from him, finding herself taking a place behind the brightened back of the stranger.

"No mercy shall be spared should you ever step before me again," the shadow knight says as he alleviates the pressure of his sword but only just enough to allow the soldier restricted movement towards the door, "Now leave."

Biggs ducks down to assist Wedge and the two soldiers soon exit the inn on their chocobo mounts. When they are completely out of sight, the shadow knight sheathes his sword and the air of hostility around him evaporates. Though the threat has passed, the man's back is still turned to her as he tilts his head upward and lets out a shallow breathe. The girl herself is no better as her gaze lays on the floor, her mind in growing conflict on how she should act.

They simply stand there, no words being exchanged or spoken. Several moments pass before a commotion is heard inside the building, providing them both with an easy distraction. As the two turn around and step out into the hallway, they see flocks of people vacating their own rooms and moving down the narrow hall in a rushed manner. Some of the guests notice their presence, or more specifically the man besides her, and they pointedly look away with barely concealed fear and animosity.

The cause for their action and behavior doesn't occur to her until years later, that if she managed to see the fight from her room then the other guests must have been able to as well. That blind, instinctive desire to avert disaster by all means however irrational; it's something a small part of her can sympathize with yet her older self will never again fall into.

As the crowd steadily thins, Rydia spots Farrah trying to stop the remaining guests at the juncture between the two hallways, but only a few are polite enough to offer their apologies or even engage in a short exchange before they depart. Many of the others avoid eye contact altogether as they whisper amongst themselves, and talks of hiring criminals soon branches out into gossip of the inn's other illegal activities and similar veins of wild thinking. The teenager stands there listening to it all, unable to retort as the slander continues in hushed chatter until the very last group exits the inn.

Save for the few people remaining, it's clear that the entire building is now empty. Without a word, Farrah ignores their presence as she mechanically starts cleaning up the debris left by the battle. Amidst the broken items, the caller can see Marie slumped down at the far end of the entryway. Yet she barely shows any signs of awareness and it isn't until Rydia gets closer before she sees how distraught the old lady truly is. She wants to do something, to somehow change the innkeeper back to the way she was, but she doesn't know how to do so or even where to begin.

It's the stranger who takes the initiative by kneeling down to help with the mess. But before he can pick anything up, the teenager numbly speaks out, "Go away..."

"Please, just let me—"

"Haven't you done enough already? Just go! Leave! Get out of here!"

Each of her shouts are punctuated by pieces of hurled rubble. Rydia, being in the indirect line of fire, flinches back from a stray debris heading her way. But there was no cause for concern as the shadow of the stranger falls over her. The girl stands there replaying the familiar scene in her head and she can't help but think that this is the fourth time now.

The man quickly leads her out of the inn, away from the wrath and sorrow of the only two women remaining inside. Once outside, he pauses for a long while and Rydia can see just how incredibly tired he looks. Soon enough he moves on, not bothering to check if the girl was still with him. But that doesn't matter. She doesn't have anywhere else to go, and so she follows.

As they continue walking, the caller looks up at the stranger again, spotting the line of crimson running down his forehead. To think he would get hurt only after the fighting is over despite all of his strength.

"You're bleeding..."

The man blinks out of his daze and turns to her, his vacant expression making her wonder if he actually heard what she said. His hand absently travels to the small gash on his temple and he touches the bit of wetness now smeared on his fingertips. He then rubs the tiny trail of blood away with the back of his hand before replying, "This..? It's nothing. How about you? Are you alright..?"

Rydia stares up at the man, feeling the question was asking more than just her physical well-being. She nods.

"That's good..."

Silence begins setting in once more but before it can completely take hold of them, Rydia gives voice to her thoughts, "Is this really alright..? They were your friends, weren't they? So why..?

_ ... why do this for me?"_

Without turning, the stranger continues to walk the barren path ahead, "I could never forgive myself if I had stepped aside and done nothing, even if it's against my own countrymen. But still, I couldn't... I should have finished things. In order to slow the pursuit, it would have been for the best..."

His expression twists as if he swallowed something sour, unable to hide his own disdain at what was just spoken. It's only upon witnessing this does Rydia decide to continue, "Those two. Are they going to be okay?"

"You mean Marie and Farrah? They managed to take cover before the fighting broke out, so they should be fine," the stranger replies before his face falls even further, "At least, that's what I like to say. But because of what happened tonight, because they got involved... it's soon going to be very difficult for them."

The stranger lapses back into a dim, brooding silence, which prompts the girl to keep talking, "All of those people left the inn, huh?"

"Yes. That's right..."

"So everything worked out pretty well then," Rydia resolutely concludes.

The stranger slows his pace and turns to her, a bit of life returning to his eyes as he inquires, "What makes you say that? How can this outcome be of any good?"

"In the end, everyone walked away, right?"

"... Well, yes. I suppose that's correct."

"That's all because nobody got hurt," Rydia says as she nods to herself. Despite all that's happened, everyone's still alive, and that's definitely the most important thing. Then, an afterthought crosses her mind, "Well, at least not too badly."

Mildly stunned, the man ponders over this simple fact. Then, his face eases a little as he quietly admits, "That's true..."

They continue walking through town, the silence not so heavy anymore. Rydia looks up and takes in the night air, and without giving it a second thought, the words simply flow out of her, "Thank you..."

But her sincere appreciation only produces the opposite effect as the man dismissively questions, "Why..? For protecting you from those soldiers? That's the very least I can do, so it's nothing for you to be thankful for..."

Still star-gazing, Rydia shakes her head as the lost memories begin resurfacing. The shadow knight confronting the dragon knight on her behalf; his continuous protection as the group fights for survival in the village once known as Mist; even up to her last moments before falling into the ravine, he was trying to save her: all the scenes which her anger and misery tried to paint over. It's so strange, completely unjust and unfair and so unbelievably difficult to accept. But there's no more denying it; she can see things clearly now. This stranger she just met, the shadow knight of the past and her guardian whom she has come to rely upon: he really is the same person.

"For everything."

The man stares at her for the longest time before his eyes shine with true understanding at the weight of her words. He turns his head forward again, swallowing his throat and blinking a bit before he gives a short nod in return.

After a couple more minutes of walking, the two arrive at remote location somewhere along the city limits, and the caller figures that they have to camp out in the open until daybreak. Rydia lies down, getting as comfortable as she can on this bed of sand, while the shadow knight takes a sitting position against the town walls besides her, propping his sword up by his shoulder in such a way that its handle laid within easy reach.

The desert grows surprisingly chilly during the night, but at least they are in a spot where the wind rarely blows and the air is still. The caller takes note of this but there was something else keeping her awake, just one last thing she needs to do.

"Rydia," she announces out loud. Puzzled, the man turns to her and the girl rolls her eyes, no longer feeling a need for restraint as she adds, "My name. You asked remember?"

"Rydia..." the shadow knight softly repeats. The caller stares inquiringly at him and he responds by blinking back stolidly. She makes a face and continues to wait, which prompts him to think harder before a simple realization strikes him. The man shakes his head in self-reproach and the deep-rooted tension he always seems to carry finally subsides. He then looks at her as he introduces himself, "I'm Cecil."

Rydia nods again, feeling better now that he isn't just some stranger to her anymore.

"G'nite, Cecil..." the caller says with a long yawn.

Just before sleep takes her, she hears Cecil's gentle response, "Ahh... Pleasant dreams, Rydia."

And for the first time in a long while, the caller is indeed able to rest peacefully.


	4. Attachments

_**As usual, kudos go out to Dr. Facer for taking the time to iron out the wrinkles for this chapter.**_

_**On a separate note, I just now realized that the Document Manager format took away the rows of asterisks that I use to signify time passing and/or change of POV, which means all my chapters up until now had no breaks in them. This idiotic formatting also limits punctuation marks to only 1, meaning any additional ! or ? in a row that I may want to use for emphasis will be automatically taken away. So for those who have been keeping track and reading my story, so sorry for the inconvenience and extra points for those of you who've managed to grit back and read through those giant blobs of text without getting lost in them.**_

* * *

"Cecil..?"

Not realizing he had stopped walking, the dark knight blinks and looks a few paces ahead to find Rydia looking back at him, her face a bit unsure as she asks, "Do you need help with some of that stuff?"

His discomfort weighing heavy, Cecil takes some time to readjust the large sack on his back before replying, "It's fine. Carrying only this much is easy enough."

The dark knight strides on as if to prove the point and Rydia promptly follows. Indeed, he has little difficulty with the extra load on his shoulders for something else is causing him to strain. He fingers the flat bulge of his tunic, tracing over the small item inside his front pocket.

Contained within is the voucher's badge he had received from Marie yesterday. With it, he was free to purchase anything from the marketplace and the unpaid bills would be directly credited towards the inn's tab. All the dark knight had to do was flash the badge and the vendors gladly handed him whatever goods he wanted, no questions asked. Despite being a new face around town, they trusted him after only a single day, never suspecting the recent supplies bought were for his own selfish gains...

"So we're almost done, right?" Rydia questions while looking up from besides him.

A long, decisive pause, then Cecil takes out the badge and rips it apart with both hands, watching as the scattered pieces fall victim to the wind, "Yeah... just one last stop to make."

They continue walking down the road and soon enough arrive in front of a place called Fuu Liten, the largest store within the shopping district of Kaipo. The dark knight can tell from the extravagant outside decor that business was prosperous. He had passed by here frequently while running errands for the inn, yet he could never bring himself to actually step inside and complete a task he knew needed to be done. That is until now.

An overhead bell sounds upon their entrance and he notices Rydia's eyes brighten in fascination at the huge variety of commodities that fill the long sections and shelves of the store. From handy tools and medicines to fine armory to elegant cloths and dazzling jewelry, just about everything can be found here.

A short, potty man from behind the corner counter looks from across the room and leisurely makes his way towards them, his beady eyes betraying the disarming smile across his face as he greets, "Ah, welcome. Just what can I do for you today, stranger?"

Cecil takes a brief glance to his right and sees Rydia absently walking on, going further into the shop as she continues to browse its contents with open wonder.

_"It's just as well,"_ the dark knight thinks. It'll be a bit easier on him if she's not around to see this. He turns to the merchant, "I'm looking to make a trade."

"Oh really?" the salesman inquires. Cecil sedately reaches into his inner folds and pulls out the same black box he's been carrying with him ever since he left castle Baron. With a flick of his finger, the lid pops open and reveals a gorgeous engagement ring, the same one he planned for so long to offer to Rosa. The merchant takes the ring out and brings it up, twisting and turning it to the light, "Quite the fancy trinket you have here. This gemstone... sapphire is it? A stellar blue hue like this can only come from the mines of Mythril. It's optimally cut with an attractive design, even the band is fully ornamented. So you're willing to sell this lovely piece?"

The dark knight gives a dim nod and the merchant's eyes narrow in deep thought. Then, he brashly states, "I'll give you 35,500 Gil for it."

Cecil's face instantly darkens, "You can't be serious..! If you can discern so much from a mere glance, then it's impossible for you to be ignorant of the ring's true value."

With a knowing smirk, the merchant replies, "I'm very much aware. However, my price still stands and isn't up for bargaining. Take it or leave it."

"If those are my choices then it's obviously clear," Cecil responds as he snatches the ring back and marches down the store to fetch Rydia. However, the merchant's sly voice follows after him.

"Of course. Feel free to peddle your wares someplace else, stranger, but I think we both know you'll be back here sure enough. Not to be boastful, but my quaint little shop is the most successful you'll find within the trading circle of Kaipo. None of the local vendors will even come close to matching my opening offer. And while there are traveling merchants who may have the necessary funds for a fairer trade... well, unlucky for you, no one has come to do business here as of late, not since recent migration troubles have begun cropping up," the merchant needlessly explains and Cecil pauses, already aware of these issues as well as another, more serious problem the salesman had addressed: transportation.

The dark knight had been relying on the established hovercraft route to traverse the desert, that is until he had heard about the town's situation. He tried gathering info from the locals yet they remained just as unaware, or to be more precise, uninformed of the details. It's not surprising really, because if rumors regarding the barricaded underground footpath are true, that would mean all forms of travel and communications between Kaipo and Damcyan are effectively cut off.

Having given enough time for his words to sink in, the merchant nonchalantly adds, "I'd also imagine it's in your best interest to decide quickly... Wouldn't want to risk causing an unnecessary scene, now would we?"

"... What would you know about that?" Cecil questions evenly.

The merchant replies with a mild shrug of his shoulders, "Just a few things you overhear from the grapevine. We live in a small town, stranger, so word travels real fast around these parts."

The dark knight falls silent; he was afraid something like this might happen. Since early childhood, he has always been the object of various stares due to his white hair and unearthly light complexion. But Rydia has even more vibrant, striking features which actively capture the eyes of all those around, and the two together make for an unmistakable pair amidst any crowd. He should have realized that news of them as well as yesterday's disturbance would spread like wildfire within this remote, peaceful town.

"So, what exactly are you scheming? Do you have designs on turning us in?"

The merchant dramatically throws his hands up in front of himself, "Surely not! But as a law-binding citizen, it's my duty to cooperate with the proper authorities should they happen upon my doorstep, you understand? Although with the right incentive, I can be persuaded to... neglect, the more colorful details regarding my patrons' illustrious background."

Unamused by his theatrics, the dark knight clarifies, "Speaking frankly, you'll overlook us if I accept your offer. A deal which amounts to little more than barely concealed bribery."

"Wherever did you learn such foul terms? But if you want to be direct about it, then yes," the merchant says with a grotty grin, "The allure of riches can make even the most upstanding men forget themselves after all. So it's only natural if I too fell victim to such selective memory loss."

His mouth thinning, Cecil seriously considers just leaving on principle regardless of the consequences. However, perhaps sensing the change in mood, the merchant smoothly shifts his sales pitch.

"Well, if you're having second thoughts about parting with such fine jewelry, then I do have something else in mind," he says while his gaze lowers, analyzing the weapon at Cecil's side, "Your sword... it's military-issued, forged from the furnaces of Baron, correct? A regular of mine happens to be an esteemed weapons' collector who pays handsomely for quality brands found within my inventory, and that blade will surely meet his satisfaction. Why, I'll be willing to go as high as 22,000 Gil for it. A generous offer, wouldn't you agree?"

Cecil looks down, removes the sheathe sword from his belt and holds it by the scabbard in his left hand. The merchant is right of course. Despite its slightly-worn edge, he's willing to pay a price roughly equivalent to that of a blacksmith's commission fee. It's unlikely the dark knight can acquire a better deal anywhere else, and the amount will be enough to cover all the expenses he has incurred. Most of all, he wouldn't have to sell the ring: the treasure he holds most dear.

He continues staring at the sword's distinguished hilt. His former status and power, the national recognition of his lordly caliber, and most of all the bestowed honor of having served the kingdom and his king, everything he ever was is embedded into this sword. But the decorated hilt, those pretty and petty things like titles and glorified deeds, can't wipe clean a blade polished with immoral death and suffering. There's nothing more he wanted than to cast his weapon, the symbol of Baron's pride, aside and be rid of it forever.

_ "So why can't I..?"_

Between the cross-guards of his sword, Cecil's focus involuntarily falls beyond the blade and happens upon the small figure of his ward. Still in the midst of browsing, Rydia stops upon catching his gaze from far across the room and returns it with a perplexed look.

His eyes lower as a scoff escapes his mouth, thinking to himself how foolish he's being; just what is he doing? It's too late now for take-backs or regrets: his choice already made what feels like a lifetime ago.

Wordlessly, he extends the hand which holds the engagement ring. Taken slightly aback, the salesman grabs hold of the ring yet is met with unexpected resistance as the dark knight's grip tightens, not letting it go. Cecil raises his head and clearly states, "But I'm only letting you hold onto this."

The merchant crocks an eyebrow, needing only a moment to understand his meaning, "Oh? So you're willing to buy the ring back are you? Quite an odd way of conducting business, stranger. And just when can I be expecting the date of collection?"

"... For however long it takes."

"My oh my, waiting for a day that may never even come. Such highly unappealing terms right from the offset. If I were foolish enough to accept, it would leave me in an awkward position, a terribly tight spot indeed... It's something I'd expect due compensation for," the merchant's hand slowly rubs his unkempt beard while his eyes thin to mere slits in a calculated show of appraising the deal. Feeling his act has drawn out long enough, the merchant sticks out his hand: all 5 fingers outstretched. He then adds with a toothy smirk, "Ah..! And this is quintuple the amount of my own retail price, mind you."

"That's fine," Cecil replies without a shred of hesitation that renders the merchant speechless, not thinking his ludicrous offer would even be remotely accepted. He gawks at the dark knight for several seconds before bursting into loud, obnoxious laughter.

"Bwahahahaahahahaa! A-ahoohohoo! Y-You definitely are one of a kind, stranger..!" the merchant wheezes out, one arm clutching his stomach while the other hand wipes a stray tear from his eye. Cecil bites back his inner cheek and takes in a prolonged breathe. He has never considered himself to be a particularly violent person, yet the man before him is definitely testing the thresholds of his tolerance. The merchant manages to settle down after awhile and continues, "You do realize that while the gemstone set within this ring is indeed rare, it's not so valuable as to justify such a ridiculous price."

Growing forlorn, Cecil shakes his head in disagreement, "Even if there's another bearing a similar quality and shine, something like this can never be so readily replaced...

… _Because this was the one, the only ring meant for her. But to relinquish it for even a moment… how could I? Even though Rosa may never know, to betray her so... Just what rights do I have to her now..?"_

The merchant takes a good, long look at the dark knight, as if seeing him for the first time, before answering, "... Alright. If you're fool enough to accept such an offer, then I'd imagine you'll be fool enough to actually see it through. But don't keep me waiting for too long; I'd like to enjoy the early retirement after all."

With a smile that isn't completely tarnished with deceitful trickery, the salesman extends his right hand and Cecil looks down at it, not at all expecting this crooked merchant to abide by such an old tradition. He grasps the outstretched hand and the two men shake firmly, sealing the deal.

They walk over to the store counter in order to complete the transaction and Rydia, who has been keeping her distance these past few minutes, soon joins them. With orderly practice, the salesman begins counting the Gil and distributing them into two separate pouches while the dark knight vaguely looks on.

"You don't seem too happy," his ward observes. Cecil glances at her for a short while, then decides it's better to speak of the other, less personal issue that has just entered his mind.

"I was just thinking. You remember what I said about the caretakers from the Miran Inn?" the dark knight inquires and Rydia nods, "The money we have now can go a long way in helping with their present financial crisis. But after last night's incident, it's possible they might not want to accept our aid, and since we'll need to be leaving town soon, there won't be another opportunity should they turn us away."

"Well... there is something we could do, but you probably won't like the idea," she says after a bit of thought and Cecil listens with an open ear, "We can try asking this man for his help again."

At their mention of him, or perhaps it was at the prospect of earning more easy money, the merchant finishes tallying up the coins and inquires, "What's this I hear? You have something else in mind?"

"Actually, we were wondering if you can do us a favor?" Rydia pipes up.

The merchant leans in and speaks to the girl, a bit patronizingly, "My favors don't come free, little missy. But if you're looking to make a deal, then there's no sense not to hear it out."

"It's the people at the inn. We never got to pay them back yet and were hoping you can do it for us somehow."

"Ah, a jobber's run is it? Not something I'm usually called upon, but still simple enough. And what would be the amount of this fine donation?"

Before she can answer, the dark knight interrupts his ward by asking, "Just to be sure, Rydia. Are you certain with what you said before? That we don't need to worry about transportation?"

The girl cocks her head, probably recalling their discussion back in front of Kaipo's chocobo ranch, "Well, yeah. There's no problem if all we need is something like that."

Though still quite skeptical, Cecil nevertheless takes the smaller of the two pouches and pockets it, leaving a full bag of Gil on the counter. The merchant raises an eyebrow in mild surprise, "Blowing over half your earnings already? You certainly are a man loose with money, stranger."

"My only real concern is whether or not such a large sum will be received in its entirety," the dark knight replies with a pointed look.

The salesman crosses his arms and stands a little straighter, his bearings reflecting much pride for his work, "Having entrusted me with this job, you can consider the money to be as good as delivered. Now, moving matters along, how many figures can I be expecting in return?"

"Figures?" the girl echoes.

"My cut, little missy. The fee for my services."

"Oh. Well, how much would be good?"

"How does fifty—" the merchant unreasonably suggests but buckles under the dark knight's lethal warning glare. The salesman nervously coughs into his hand, then he offers with surprising modesty, "...five percent of gratuity sound..?"

Rydia fixes a hesitant glance towards Cecil and he gives a small motion of approval. However, she seems to have taken his gesture completely the wrong way as she says, "You wanted fifteen? Okay."

The salesman instantly beams with delight while the dark knight is thrown off and hastily tries to rectify, "He already agreed to a smaller share, Rydia, so there's **absolutely** no reason to give him any more than that."

The girl mulls over his words for all of two seconds before raising a hand and waving his comment away, "It's not all that big of a difference, right? And besides, he's been a big help to us all this time, so it's good to give him back a little extra as thanks."

The merchant wiggles his finger in mock reproach and chimes in, "For shame, stranger. You should be setting a better example for the little missy here. For her to know more in the ways of civil courtesy than you do. Tragic..! A true tragedy indeed."

"Yep!" his ward readily chirps and nods twice, as if once isn't enough to convey her over-eagerness.

Cecil glowers yet doesn't try to argue the point, knowing Rydia was at least partially right and that he was just being petty. The amount of money had never been a real issue since they can get by well enough even with the leftover funds. It was just incredibly vexing when he had received so little for the engagement ring, as if to say that was all it's worth, _"Not to mention..."_

The dark knight warily eyes the greedy merchant and finds it increasingly difficult to fight down his bitterness over handing this crook more money than he rightly deserves. Though highly reluctant, Cecil manages a stiff nod.

"Knew you'd come around to it, stranger, and I must give thanks for providing never-ending wonders for my business," the merchant says with pure mirth, his demeanor never chipper, "Tell you what. As a special bonus, I'll even throw in a freebie, a small something of the little missy's choosing."

"You mean I can have anything I want?" Rydia asks, a ting of childish hope in her tone, while Cecil's face is full of skepticism, knowing there has to be some kind of catch to his offer.

"That's right. But only one item around this section here."

She presses a finger against her chin and pauses, long and thoughtful, then she gives a deflated response, "On second thought, forget it."

"Hey now! You don't believe me? I'm a man of my word, little missy."

"But what if I pick something that's really valuable or expensive? You wouldn't like that, right?"

"Wha-ha-ha..! Oh, I'm sure there's nothing to worry about there." the salesman boosts and Cecil can now see why. With prices all marked under 100 Gil, it would be impossible for this cheapskate to lose anything of value here.

The girl ducks her head and looks up at him with wide, brimming eyes, "Really..? Are you sure?"

The merchant nods with great confidence, "Just go ahead and say whatever it is you like."

"Then I want that back," Rydia replies right away, much to Cecil's surprise as she drops all pretenses and whips a finger at what's inside the man's pocket.

The merchant blinks dumbly, "...Eh?"

"The ring. Give it back."

"... Ah..! You seem to be mistaken about something, little missy. The choices you have are limited to the merchandise found on these shelves."

"You didn't say anything like that before," she accurately states.

"Not in those exact words, no. But that's what I meant."

"All you said was that I can have anything in this section for free, nothing about where I can get it from. And since we're all around here, then I don't see why that ring can't be included."

The merchant replies in a stained voice, "Like I just mentioned, it was a tiny misunderstanding..."

"You're just making up excuses now and going back on your word, even though you swore you wouldn't."

"Well, yes— I mean no..! I wasn't—"

"So how was I wrong? 'specially when you're the one being all dishonest and not owing up to what they said."

The merchant turns his head up and away, looking as if he's having a serious migraine, and Cecil might have felt a twitch of sympathy if this were happening to a nicer, more honest person. But the salesman's dilemma is short-lived as he takes notice of the dark knight and suddenly recalls, "Ah yes, how can I forget..! I've already promised your companion here exclusive rights to this particular piece."

"... A promise..?" the girl quietly repeats, her face softening.

Seeing a chance to walk away with his dignity, the merchant pounces on it, "That's right, little missy. My previous agreement with him is iron-clad, takes top priority and can't be voided."

The girl furrows her eyes brows, full of doubt, yet is unable to give a good response. Knowing the relentless merchant will simply drag this argument out, Cecil steps up and interjects, "You don't need to go so far, Rydia."

She starts sulking, still not willing to let the matter go, "But it was so pretty, and it's important to you. I thought you really wanted it back."

The dark knight stares at his ward, realizing he must have looked awfully pitiful if she was able to deduce this much. He lets out a quiet breathe and answers earnestly, "I do. More than anything. And that's why I need to get it back myself or else it won't mean a thing."

"Still..."

"It's alright. What you've done already is more than enough," Cecil says, and he finds himself meaning it.

"It's as he says, little missy. A cheeky brat like you should just to sit tight and listen to your elders on this one," the merchant lectures as he shamelessly rallies behind the dark knight. Cecil glances sideways and grimaces, his good feelings quickly diminishing with each chummy slap of the shoulders made by the other man, "So now that you know better, you'll need to be selecting something else from this particular lineup."

"... That's okay. There's nothing here that I really want anyways," Rydia states truthfully after taking a quick glance over the multitude of lousy knickknacks. The salesman takes a long gander at her, scratching his beard while keeping one eye closed as he heavily considers.

"Fair enough. Then how about leaving the decision to me and see if I can choose an item that will strike your fancy," the merchant says. He then walks with purpose and the two of them follow suit, wondering what he has in mind. While moving through the center aisle, the salesman's hand hovers over the lower right-side shelf and teasingly dips just above some of the merchandise they happen to pass by, "So, I'm guessing... this should be... the one... right... about... Here."

Picking up a rather strange piece from the accessory area, the salesman holds it out with both hands and Rydia releases an audible breathe, her eyes twinkling. This was a little too good of a guess, or so Cecil figures. The merchant must have also been paying careful attention to the girl ever since they stepped foot inside the store. Knowing him though, it was most likely to make sure she wasn't shoplifting.

She reaches out to touch it, yet her fingers jerk back as she remembers herself and casts a timid glance at the dark knight. Cecil gives a reassuring nod that puts his ward at ease and she gladly takes it without further reservations.

Rydia places the oversized ornament atop her head and begins fiddling with the back of it, further tangling up strands of wild emerald hair in the process. Cecil dubiously looks on and is just about to say something when he hears the secure sound of a clip fastening. After a few quick swipes to flatten out her hair, Rydia twirls for him and cheerfully asks, "So how is it? Doesn't it look nice?"

The dark knight can only stare at the tacky hairpin with his mouth ajar, honestly not knowing what the hell it was until just a few seconds ago, "Yeah. That's, um, very... eye-catching..."

The hairpin is azure colored, much like Kain's armor yet is a couple of shades lighter than her own indigo eyes, and resembles a flower or a star or something of that nature. It's well-crafted and looks to be made from fine materials, yet one might begin having doubts of its quality upon discovering the multiple times its price tag has been slashed down. He can tell from the layers of collected dust that the accessory has been a hard sell despite only now being worth 450 Gil. And with a pointlessly large size that covers one-third of Rydia's entire head, it's no great wonder why it remained on the shelves. The dark knight squints his eyes as if that would magically transform his vision of the ornament, struggling to find at least one appealing aspect to it, _"Perhaps it distracts away from her emerald hair? If just a tiny bit, maybe..? ... not._

… _Well, I suppose it's fine,"_ Cecil concedes as he lays witness to the infectious smile still adorning her face. If a simple hairpin can bring back a bit of joy into this girl's life, then he really has no reason to complain.

Concluding their business here, the two travelers make ready to leave yet the merchant speaks up once again, "A word of advice. If you're thinking of taking the old trading route north, then you best be wary. Recently, those traveling there turn up missing, while the returning few speak tales of a crazed old man who bars the path through the underground waterway. It would be a crying shame for me if you ended up like many of the others and became just another lost statistic."

Grateful for this tidbit of info, Cecil gives the merchant a final nod, "Needless to say we'll stay on guard. Until then."

"Be seeing you, stranger. And of course, the little missy as well. I'll be awaiting your return at anytime."

They exit the store and continue to walk until the two reach the outskirts of Kaipo. Even though they have a set road ahead and are better equipped, journeying through the vast desert regions on foot is an endeavor Cecil would care not to repeat. And so, he allows his ward free reign while he stands off to the side and waits.

Eyes half-lidded, Rydia begins by breaking her stillness and twirling in place, deliberately slow in her movements as she swings her arms freely about while dragging one foot across the sand. After completing a full turn, she halts to a pregnant stop. Then, she stomps the heel of her right foot once. Twice. Unbelievably, the ground actually quakes under the small girl's steps and grains of sand lift up a bit before they settle neatly back down, forming a variety of foreign runic markings within the circle she had made. Then as if overcome with sheer exhaustion, she slumps to the ground, her head bowed down with both knees and palms flat against the sand.

Several beats pass and Cecil starts to worry, fearing something might have gone wrong. He takes a step forward but instantly retracts back as the rune sparks to life. Rydia's vivid eyes snap forward just before a bright yellow flash rises from the ground and engulfs her whole.

The dark knight shields his face with his right hand and squirts into the light, trying to make out where his young ward is. The brightness soon fades and in its place stands a white chocobo, seeming to have risen straight out of nothing, with Rydia casually sitting sideways on top of it. She greets the giant bird affectionately, stroking its long, feathery neck and it responds by nuzzling its beak into her cheek.

_"Amazing... Summoners indeed. The name certainly suits them well."_ Cecil thinks with awe andRydia, who had been gazing down at him with bright expectation, smiles wider upon seeing his agape reaction, _"Then again, maybe it's not so surprising. At least I'm not being blown back a few dozen meters and scrambling for my life this time around."_

Though he's unfamiliar with their species, he does know of one discrete, special trait based on its color. Like Troia's famous black chocobos, this one is another type of rare breed that, while unknown to him, possesses unique terrain abilities amongst its kind. The dark knight notes that the bird is fairly small, only about half the size of a common yellow chocobo, and thinks maybe it's a characteristic of its breed or that it has yet to reach full maturity. Unlike the docile mounts in Baron's stables or the malnourished ones he had seen earlier in the farming ranch of Kaipo, this chocobo is very robust and seems to be far more energetic and animated even in its idle stance.

Glad that he was right to believe in his ward, Cecil transfers the sack he's carrying, however, the chocobo jolts forward before he can securely tie down their belongings. He moves to pick up some of the fallen supplies and walks towards the giant bird yet it promptly trots away, _"What the..?"_

He takes a step forward and the chocobo again takes to two steps back. Several attempts at getting closer ends in failure and leaves the dark knight standing with a heavy scowl. Then suddenly, he makes a bold leap at the bird yet it manages to hop away, shaking off the excess baggage on its back in retaliation. He takes this moment to look at his ward who sits there, her face observant and unconcerned as she watches the antics unfold.

"Isn't there something you can do, Rydia?"

"Do..?" she blinks twice, confused, "Like what?"

"Well for one, can't you make this chocobo more obedient? We need to use him for traveling after all, and that won't be possible if he's acting this wild and rambunctious. Not to mention..." Cecil starts to say but trails off upon noticing the unpleasant look on his ward's face.

"I can't make **her** do anything. She answers my call and listens to me because she's my friend." the summoner acutely replies, "If you want Coco to behave, then you can start by treating her more nicely."

_"So, respect others and they'll respond in kind..? Will that even work for this bird?"_

Mimicking Rydia's earlier actions, Cecil starts out by rubbing the plush underside of its fluffy neck but the chocobo doesn't take too kindly to the gesture. With its pointy beak, it swiftly pecks at his palm and causes the dark knight to flinch his hand away with a startled cry.

"She doesn't like to be touched so familiar-like by strangers," Rydia states a bit too late, "But it's good. I think she's starting to warm up to you."

Still squeezing his punctured wound numb, the dark knight replies flatly, "I'm really not seeing it."

"That's just 'cause you're not paying enough attention. It took me a long time too, but understanding her becomes real easy once you know what to look for."

Suppressing his irritation, Cecil squats down and fumbles through their luggage in order to retrieve the gyashi greens. He had learned from Rosa that the herb is used as a key ingredient in the creation of the potion's series. But even on its own the aloe from its leaves can be used as a healing ointment which can clog up minor open wounds.

Just as he was about to apply the herb, the chocobo perks up and trots over to him. Cecil stares in disbelief before tentatively trying to pet it for a second time, but his hopes are stripped away once again as the unruly bird snatches the gyashi greens right out from his other hand.

"Hey—!" the dark knight shouts then snaps his mouth shut to keep from shouting any obscurities. Grabbing onto the other end, he gives a mighty tug which causes the herb to be split into two and sends him stumbling a few paces back. The chocobo wastes no time as it dips its neck and begins devouring the large supply of gyashi greens from the open sack. Cecil quickly stands over their luggage and tries shooing it away but the chocobo fights back in a ruffle of feathers, aggressively flapping its wings as it gives no quarter.

"Just so you know, you're not winning many points with Coco right now," Rydia supplies. The dark knight shifts his focus towards her, mainly so that he wouldn't be glaring daggers at the damnable bird.

"Why is this chocobo even eating these greens anyway? Isn't its regular diet supposed to consist of carrots and other vegetables?"

"Hmm... I don't know about that. But she obviously likes the food you brought."

He lets out a hefty sigh, "It just has to have expensive taste..."

"Yeah. She is kinda spoiled and likes to be pampered," Rydia affirms and the chocobo coos in unabashed agreement. It begins making various motions with its wings and claws which grabs her undivided attention, and the summoner gives all sorts of affirmative nods in-between until she finally exclaims, "Oh, great news! Coco said she might reconsider carrying your stuff if you become her personal groomer."

The dark knight stands there with an incredible look on his face as a dry desert breeze blows by, "... I'll have to decline."

A disappointed frown appears on his ward's face, "You're not happy with it?"

"That's not exactly what I pictured my future occupation to be," he concretely informs. Scraping together the leftover remains of his patience, Cecil barely manages a civilized request, "Rydia. Can you please try harder to reason with this choco— with Coco and get her to understand how vital her cooperation is?"

The summoner briskly nods in compliance. Scooting closer towards the front, she presses down then pats the wide, unoccupied space of its back but the chocobo merely turns its beak up in response. Rydia reaches out with both hands, takes hold of the its face and turns it back her way. Then she gets real close and starts rubbing their foreheads together as if direct contact will better convey her unspoken message. The chocobo stubbornly bristles, yet calms down after awhile until finally it appears to settle into the idea.

"Well... Coco believes you're really rude and think way too highly of yourself. But she at least likes your honesty, so she's willing to let you ride her this one time. 'Just don't get any funny ideas' she said."

"I'll bear that in mind and keep idle hands from roaming," Cecil responds, exasperated, as he wonders just how much creative liberty Rydia was taking in her role as translator. But true to her word, the chocobo gives him no further delays with the packing, so he can at least cross out the possibility that this was all just make-believe.

He hops on without incident and the two travelers resume their trek through the desert. It's been a surprisingly pleasant and smooth ride even without a saddle, and the sweltering sun doesn't seem nearly as harsh due to the constant headwind. For what feels like the first time in ages, the dark knight is able to slack back and relax, "I have to admit, Rydia, that Coco has been of great help. It's fortunate you were able to handle this situation."

"Mm, it's no big deal. You can do it too,"

He gives a faint smile, "That's doubtful, since I don't have much talent for sorcery much less the mystics of summoning."

"Oh, not that. I just meant being able to talk with her even without words. Though I guess things could have been a whole lot easier, but I'm just the same as you here."

His eye brows wrinkling, Cecil has a hard time understanding, "Similar to me? In regards to what?"

"A link: by forming one with Coco we could do all kinds of things like read each other's mind. I haven't made a connection with her either," the summoner states, then shakes her head and corrects herself, "Or it's more like I'm not allowed to."

He blinks, remembering a time not too long ago where he had witnessed her magic firsthand,_ "How strange..._

Why is that?"

"I don't really know, but that's just the way it's always been," she says with a shrug before returning her gaze ahead, tilting her head skyward while doing so, "The feeling though and what it's like... It's life-changing, like exchanging a little piece of your entire being. But it's needless for us though, since no person born is ever really missing anything. That's why it's best if we never knew a single thing or else you have to give yourself up completely; all so that you won't be left with nothing but a hole in your heart... At least that was what mama had told me."

The chocobo trots on, leaving behind only its footprints across the sand before they too are erased by a fell wind and vanish from all existence.

"..? What is it?" Rydia asks after turning her head back.

Cecil stares into her face, crease-less and lacking in any type of emotion. Her mouth is set into a fine line, no wet or wavering eyes, not even so much as a quiver had arisen in her voice. Nothing at all to suggest something might be amiss with her: and that's precisely the problem.

_ "This should be a good thing, right? So why does it feel otherwise..?_

No... it's nothing," the dark knight relies yet fails to reassure even himself, _"... Am I just being __pessimistic? But for her to speak of the past as if she never played any part in it... Can she already be alright with everything? Is it really so easy for her to forgive and forget..?"_

The thought fills him both with hollow relief and vile disgust, because now he has less to feel guilty about.

Cecil lies his musings to rest and observes his surroundings, its simplicity far more preferred than fishing for questions he knows not the answers to.

The grains of sand hitting his skin. The breath of the desert. The heat of the sun. The white clouds overhead. The dry air.

Sitting here, relaxing. Doing nothing but sitting.

Lying back. Relaxing. Breathing.

…Calmly. Fading...

Weary...breathing...

…heavy

…fading...

…sleep...y...

…no...thing...

…not...

...a...

...thing...

* * *

_His vision grew blurry and when he blinked, the endless sand and vast skies collapsed into an enclosed space full of rustic brown, creamy tan, rainbow dots and man-made gray. This building, this place: it was an all too familiar scene that he shouldn't even be seeing. He looked around and found a familiar teenage girl occupying the same table opposite of him._

_ "Rosa..?" Cecil uttered, as if he couldn't quite believe his eyes. And like the pouring sand inside an hourglass, the weight of the consciousness lopsided and the images he had known to be true soon slipped into nothing more than remnants of a waking dream._

_ "You've been in a daze for so long that I was beginning to think you had departed from this world," she lightly teased, then her expression shifted to one of mild sympathy, "Though I can imagine why. It must be rather boring, always sitting here with nothing to do but watch me study."_

_ "That's not true, or else I wouldn't have come in the first place," he replied with a slight smile, not noticing the long hours which had flown by since his stay. A thought then struck him and the squire scratched his right cheek with a finger while lowering his gaze a bit abashed, "Or is this your subtle way of saying I'm just being a bother?"_

_ "Not at all..! It's wonderful to have you here, especially since we've been seeing so little of each other as of late."_

_ Cecil gave a relaxed nod before he rose from his own chair and headed towards the bookshelves, distancing himself so that he wouldn't provide any further distractions. Her pensive gaze still lingered on him, however, and it wasn't until the squire walked out of her view before the trainee mage quietly resumed her work._

_ He wondered down each index section, not looking for anything in particular. The squire would usually read a book on swordplay or strategic tactics so that he could at least be learning proper form and game theory during his occasional visits here. But he just couldn't focus today, his mind too occupied with thoughts of tomorrow onwards._

_ His fingers thumbing through the rows, a familiar title happened to catch Cecil's eyes and he stretched up in order to remove a hefty book from the second top shelf._

_ "'A Court Jester's Guide to Arcana Terminology and Pronunciation, Vol. III...'" he read out loud and a fond smile spread across his face as the squire began recalling Kain's last visit into town._

_ Eyes glazed over in sheer boredom, Kain had not been a happy camper spending his lone holiday inside the public library. But since he also wanted to spend time with Rosa, this was the place he had to be. However, the page had never been one to take things lying down and so to help quicken the pace, the complete novice had attempted to tutor the apprentice in the ways of magic._

_ Picking up this exact copy from her pile, his friend had opened the book with ignorant aplomb, took a moment's glance inside, and then his expression froze up in that instant. He hastily flipped through the pages, all the while babbling about unrelated subjects matters, and went through the whole volume without finding a single sentence that was remotely comprehensible, the contents of the grimoire looking little more than mere gibberish to him. Cecil had a difficult time stiffening his laughter. He empathized with Kain on a certain level, as if feeling his own manly pride was being publicly castrated, yet he still found the show his friend was putting on highly entertaining._

_ Of course, it stopped being fun as soon as the trainee mage posed the same challenge at him._

_ Being smart enough to know his limits, Cecil had tried changing the subject but the page wouldn't let him, vengefully wanting another scapegoat to share in the same embarrassment. Through both Rosa's deceptively gentle coaxing and Kain's unbridled jeering, he was quickly peer pressured into trying his hand at it and the ensuing spurs of merriment followed, so spontaneous and carefree that the librarian had warned them several times before they were finally asked to leave. At the very least, the squire could say with confidence that he did a better job than Kain had done. Though in the end, Rosa was the only one who received a good laugh at both of their expense._

_ His hand stopped flipping through the pages in reminiscence; that had been the last time all three of them were together. Kain's holiday ended the following day, and he along with his fellow cadets were recalled back to the castle._

_ Including the four months before his last visit, a full year had gone by since their trio was cut down to a duo. And now like his friend before him, Cecil had become of age as well. By tomorrow afternoon, he too will be officially enlisted into Baron's military academy._

_ Though their personalities had clashed more often than not, Cecil knew deep down that they both upheld the same principles and sought after the same goals. This in turn led to their endless tale at one-upmanship; the squire never wanting to fall one step behind while Kain held no intentions of relinquishing even an inch of his lead. But ever since his best friend advanced on to the next level, daily training sessions had felt like grueling labor, mechanical and slow. And then there was Rosa whom he hadn't been seeing much of as well._

_ Truthfully, it had been lonely; even though it was just single physical barrier which separated the teenage boys, even though she was still close enough for him to be able to reach out and touch her. Without those two in his life, Cecil only felt half as good. Like he regressed to his earliest years before he had any real friends to call his own, back when his heritage was forever placed into question as nothing more than the king's stray orphan._

_ The squire shut his eyes, lowered the book in his hands and leaned against the shelf, trying to shift his focus on less destructive thoughts. Recapturing his train of thought, it was around this time one year ago when Rosa had also gone absent from the archery range following the page's departure._

_ A refined, proper skill for any noblewoman to possess, her parents had first believed she practiced for the sport of it and Cecil had thought the same. It wasn't until last year's ceremony did they all discover how serious she was, having full intentions to follow up on her training and join the ranks of Baron's military. She was a natural with the bow, so much so that her archery instructor had broken protocol and fought hard for her active admission, but her family wielded considerable influence and they easily closed the door on that prospect._

_ Cecil released a deep exhale; he had received quite a bit of heat from Rosa's mother on that day, accusing him of being chiefly responsible for how her daughter ended up, and at times he couldn't help but think she might be right. If Rosa had never gotten to know the two boys, perhaps she wouldn't have such lofty aspirations that were well below her station._

_ At least when it came to Rosa's well-being, both he and her family were on the same wavelength. The squire also didn't want his dear friend exposed out in the battlefield, he never wanted to see her get hurt._

_ It wasn't long before the issue with her parents was resolved with a quick compromise. Upon discovering a moderate deposition for white magic, they allowed her to pursue an education in magecraft so long as her duties to the kingdom remained limited upon graduation._

_ From then on, Rosa had stopped coming by to see the squire at the training grounds and had quit archery altogether, her efforts focused entirely on her new chosen career path. She seemed to spend every waking moment within the confines of this library or with her private tutor taking supplementary lessons. For her to even rank a passing grade in her classes was something of a miracle, a true testament to all her dedication, though she still continued struggling with the material and to keep up with students who have several more years of tutelage within the field._

_ And while the whole town will soon be celebrating, she'll be here alone toiling away, yielding not a day's relaxation even for his sake._

_ Turning towards a specific direction, the squire stared straight in between the thin gaps of the bookshelves and saw the distant figure of Rosa who was still seated, her table not as cluttered nor the stacks of books half as high as they had been when she first started out. It was a clear sign of her progress over the past year yet he still had to wonder, not for the first time, why she felt the need to push herself so hard and do all of this._

_ With Kain, he could understand since his friend carried the proud knight's legacy of his forefathers before him. Cecil also held a similar conviction. He wanted to repay the king in any way and to never bring shame upon his name, so that the monarch wouldn't know a moment's regret for choosing to raise him as his own._

_ He just didn't know what to make of Rosa's decision. She had a loving family who thought foremost of her welfare and who had provided her an array of future opportunities. There should be a grander stage for her to perform in, something far better than the harsh and humble lifestyle she was settling for and enduring._

_ Cecil noted the quiet inactivity and looked across the room, seeing Rosa forlorn with her gaze lying elsewhere. He followed her line of sight towards one of the windows which offered a majestic, if not foreboding view of Castle Baron and saw that it was raining. Just a small drizzle really, but noticing it made him acutely aware of the drastic temperature drop and cool humidity which now occupied the once stuffy room._

_ He should really rest now and prepare for the big day tomorrow. But the squire didn't move from his spot and continued to whittle the time away, thinking instead on what might happen should the rain grow into a storm unlike any the city of Baron had ever seen. Perhaps the downpour will cause the moat to overflow and make access into the castle impossible, thereby causing a few days delay in the inductee ceremony._

_ No. Why stop there?_

_ Maybe the storm of epic proportions will cause a definite cancellation for the entire year. But now that he thought about it, a flood of that magnitude will probably reach all the way into the city as well. For both of them to live stranded inside this building for the remainder of their days; things could get a tad difficult but it's still perfectly doable. He could be quite resourceful when the need arises and the minor necessities could surely be solved by Rosa and the mystic mysteries of her learned magic._

_ Having thrown all rationale aside, Cecil continued his wayward musings. The opinion of his peers, the full expectations of the king, just being here with her made him care for none of it. It would be nice if they could simply stay like this._

_ "Isn't it about time..?"_

_ Though her voice was just above a whisper, it carried clearly across the empty room. Cecil's eyes regained their focus back to reality. Even if he should forget himself completely, Rosa surely wouldn't allow him to. Still, it had felt nice to entertain those thoughts if even for a little while, "Yeah... You're right."_

_ He randomly returned the book onto the shelves while the trainee mage rose out from her cluttered desk and together they walked towards the library entrance._

_ The trip was short, not lasting even a minute. The squire opened the door yet couldn't bring himself to step outside, and so he remained standing between the entryway. Downcast, Rosa spoke, "Forgive me, Cecil. Even though this is suppose to be your big moment, I won't even be there to celebrate it with you."_

_ "Well, don't think too much of it. This is really all just for formality's sake... Also, your workload is heavy enough as is. And I would hate for you to overburden yourself on my account," he honestly replied, for he felt his words would betray him if he had strayed anywhere else._

_ The sound and scent of raindrops beckoned him away, but he couldn't leave things the way they were. And so following his impulses, he hugged Rosa, much more than what could be deemed platonic and bordering on downright inappropriate. His mind finally caught up to what his body was doing and blared out that he could still pull back now and coolly play it off. But they won't be seeing each other for many years to come, so he should be entitled to this much, shouldn't he?_

_ "I'm sorry, Cecil..." she apologized for the second time and he felt those naive thoughts breaking into a sound of shattered glass. But before the feelings of rejection could begin sinking in, Rosa leaned into his embrace and continued, "To use your leaving as an excuse. We could have spent many more days together had I acted sooner. So to make up for lost time, this will have to do..."_

_ And before the squire could fully register what was happening, she closed the tiny distance left between them and kissed him chastely. His face erupted, her bold action leaving him feeling hot and heady._

_ Rosa placed a hand against his chest and gently, yet somehow firmly pushed the dysfunctional squire outside while she took one step back herself, the threshold of the door definitively separating them. She stood for several seconds with her eyes locked on the floor and her cheeks flushed in scarlet embarrassment. Then, her fingers intertwined together below her waist and she raised her head, sending him off with a warm, supportive smile, "Congratulations."_

* * *

The faint sound of puddle drops can still be heard even as Cecil slowly opens his eyes, not realizing he had them closed this whole time. He places a hand over his face and rubs his temple to try shaking off his weariness, _"Only a dream..? Just a faraway memory..."_

The dark knight sees that he's still sitting atop of the white chocobo, though it is no longer in motion and lies lazily on the stone cavern floor. Rydia is also relaxing a few meters away, her back to him with arms propped along both sides while her feet lightly splash into the nearby pond. Patches of light leak through the cracks of the high ceiling above and shimmer down, playing on the water's surface as it softly shines and glistens.

Cecil takes in this brief respite and allows the well of sadness to wash over him, his hand fingering the empty jewelry box in his pocket.

_ "... No... even if everything else is lost, surely there will come a time where I can return, at least for her..."_

It's the only future he can possibly believe in; even if he comes back to a place where nothing is the same, even if the passage of years erodes all of her love for him away.

He sinks his emotions deep within. At any rate, he can't be showing again such a hapless face, "Sorry, Rydia. Have I kept you waiting?"

Startled, she snaps her head towards him then shakes it in reply, "It hasn't been that long. And anyways, it's not really your fault."

The summoner points forward, across the pond at what looks to be a campsite just up ahead.

As the two draw near, they can see the dull red embers of the smothered campfire and Rydia wrinkles her nose at the smell of burnt fish loafing in the air. A rustle is heard from inside the tent and soon a figure steps out, studying them inquisitively. Without a doubt, this is the same dangerous man that had been described by the merchant.

Judging from his iron-gray hair and bottle-coke spectacles, he looks to be in his early 60's. His hairstyle is quite bizarre and along with his pointed beard, it gives his head a distinct, triangle-like shape. In his hand holds a wooden scepter fashioned in the form of a griffin and on his person is a purple antique robe. Based on those two features as well as his outdated attire, it's fairly certain this old man is a traditional, longstanding magician.

_"Still, it's odd..."_

This is their first meeting yet somehow the dark knight feels he knows this person from somewhere. It then strikes Cecil as he recalls seeing several illustrations of this man inside the library grimoires.

"Pardon me, good sir, but would your name happen to be Tellah? As in the great sage Tellah of Mysidia?"

The old man nods, "The very same, though I have not been referred to as such in a very long while. It is quite surprising that someone like you would know of me."

"Yes, I've heard your name in passing mention from a dear friend of mine who studies the arcane arts."

"And you yourself would be a mercenary, am I correct?" Tellah inquires after setting his eyes on the dark knight's sword. The sage's attention then shifts to Rydia, his left hand adjusting the spectacles on his face as he continues in a profound whisper, "And this child..."

Cecil takes half a step forward, obscuring the sage's view of his ward as he responses, "Ahh... It's my duty to protect her and see her safe passage into the kingdom of Damcyan. However, I hear the way is blocked..?"

A single beat passes before Tellah lets his arm drop to his side and addresses the dark knight, "That is so. A terrible sea creature dwells deep within the gorge ahead and assaults any who dares enter its territory. Could the dead whisper such secrets, the foolhardy caravans which have come before you would attest to this fact. It would be wise of you to venture no further."

"Thank you for the warning. Unfortunately, we cannot afford to heed your advice."

"Even knowing the dangers you still intend to proceed?" Tellah openly questions. Pondering the matter silently, he then speaks, "Then if you would, allow me to join you. I believe the both of us working together will be enough to thwart the beast."

Seeing merit in their partnership, Cecil nods his consent and moves onward, however, the sage quickly stops him with an outstretched hand, "Not this way. A direct assault on the creature will prove suicidal. Please leave your belongings here and come with me."

With that said, Tellah takes a separate path leading to higher ground, an unexpected detour away from their intended destination. Uncertain, Cecil nevertheless follows the sage's guidance and soon enough the group is on their way to the unseen perils which lie ahead.

* * *

A flash. Thunder booms and crashes down, electrocuting the school of unsuspecting piranha swimming in the riverbank below. One by one they float and rotate upright, their bloated bellies bobbing along with the waves as the stream eventually carries their charred remains far and away.

An eruption of water had scattered out from the lightning strike and a few of those beads happen to catch Rydia in her left eye. While wiping the irritation away, she sees Tellah lowering his scepter for what has to be the umpteenth time, and as the caller has come to expect, he pulls out a metal flask from within his robes and takes a careful, calculated sip once more.

With the sage taking it upon himself to dispatch of any viable threat, it leaves Cecil with little to do in his uneventful position as rear guard. Not that he seems to be complaining nor does Rydia expect him to. For no matter how strong she knows him to be, she imagines underwater combat lies outside the shadow knight's forte, his movements heavily weighed while any form of attack might as well just be sluggish whacks coming from a slim steel club.

Just like Cecil had previously expressed, the sage's spells were a boon to have. But there's something about him, about this whole situation which keeps her on edge.

The caller has never seen magic quite like Tellah's until today, power that is his very own, so she really has no right to criticize in matters she lacks any fundamental knowledge of.

So why? The sage hasn't done anything at all to earn her distrust, so why then can't she help but feel wary of him..?

"You've been awfully quiet for a while now, Rydia. Is anything wrong?"

The caller gives pause to her guardian's inquiries, trying extra hard to form her thoughts and put them into the right words, "... He's struggling..."

"Who? Tellah?" Cecil wonders out loud before scrutinizing the sage walking several paces in front of them. The group has been steadily climbing uphill through these tunnels for the past few hours now and still he shows no signs of slowing down, "... I don't think so. He's actually holding up far better than one would expect for a man his age."

Rydia shakes her head and frowns, frustrated with herself for being unable to understand what she's feeling, "Not in that way..."

"And how might I ask, in what manner would you happen to be referring?" Tellah interrupts as he tilts his head back, eying her from above the rim of his spectacles. The caller shyly retracts back and doesn't answer, yet the sage isn't at all offended but rather seems pleased with her assessment.

Cecil turns to him, diverting the sage's attention away from her while changing the subject, "If you wouldn't mind, Tellah, you've yet to explain how this detour is of any benefit to us."

"In but a few moments. All shall be revealed shortly upon arrival at our destination."

And just like that, the path soon opens up and daylight can be seen at the far end of the tunnel. The sound of rushing water becomes distinctly louder as they draw near the exit and upon stepping outside, their view of the scenery expands tremendously.

The group now resides on top of a narrowing cliff which oversees the interior scope of an immense, open-air gorge. Having come across a dead end, Rydia gazes down and recognizes several areas they've already passed by on their hike upstream – then the sight of it hits her. They've been going around in circles this entire time, doing nothing more than spiral up the high reaches of this grand domain.

Many creeks and streams from all around congregate here, flowing down from various heights and elevations along the outer region and pooling into the vast lake below. Masses of land are few and far between as the majority of the gorge is filled with crystalline water which perfectly mirrors the wide, gold tinted skies above.

It's beautiful, but at the same time feels wholly unnatural. Besides the constant flow of streaming water, the gorge itself is as quiet as a grave site, devoid of life and becoming an untouched paradise.

As she continues surveying the area, the caller starts understanding the reason for this wayward hike. There are actually two main bodies of water at the bottom of the gorge. This is made more obvious by the water level differential due to a land dike, about 40 feet high and spanning nearly 500 feet across, which boxes in a large corner of the domain and keeps the neighboring lake from engulfing it completely.

The waterfall just up ahead flows directly down this very section. What's more, the pond looks rather shallow along its borders and will probably make wading through that much easier for their group.

"So, the creature's dwellings lie someplace there?" Cecil asks, indicating a random area down in the center.

"That is so. The Octomammoth moves with incredible swiftness and needs only but a few moments to transverse the far range of this entire lake. Those taking the most direct route must still swim a lengthy distance between each of the isolated islands," the sage responds and points down towards a specific location, "The prior caravans which have made it midway through... it has long been my hypothesis that they have only managed due to that vile creature's ploy. To lure, entrap then ravage them only after all means of escape have been thoroughly forfeited and stripped away."

The situation grows heavier and Rydia swallows hard under the pressure. Her guardian, however, picks up on a subtle detail and his expression becomes slim and tight, "Forgive me if I appear out of line, but why is it only now that you choose to act when you've remained a spectator for the many others who were in greater need of your assistance?"

Taken aback, Tellah turns his gaze while adopting a sober look.

"There are reasons. The first, dreadful to say, is because both my mind and body are no longer what they used to be. Many seasons have passed since I have retired life as a sorcerer and have long since forgotten my repertoire of spells. Only after deep meditation these past few weeks did I begin recalling even the most basic enchantments, as well as piece together the entirety of a very special incantation. One which will certainly fall the sea creature without fail," The sage explains as he retrieves a rolled-up piece of parchment from inside his baggy sleeves, "This scroll contains one of the forbidden Arcana Hexes. As such, it is imperative for the caster to receive a great measure of support while the spell is amidst preparation."

"From what I'm gathering, you seem awfully confident in this spell's given success."

"And rightfully so. All public records of Great Magic classified level-4 and above have long since been banned by Mysidia's council due to their wary array of sheer, unbridled power. For all intent and purposes, their original use is for besieging castles and eradicating army battalions," Tellah informs. He then falls silent, turning his head towards the gouge once more, "... Sufficient to say, sorcery on so grand a scale is not without demerit. And so I will ask again. This mission you hold, is it truly worth risking everything for? Faced with such explicit dangers, no one can place neither blame nor fault should you choose to preserve your own life and security."

Cecil pauses, his eyes drifting far away, "There was a time, maybe, when that might have still held true... but no longer. Those things now are far beyond me."

Rydia sadly looks on while Tellah stares at the shadow knight, not fully knowing what to make of his reply, before giving a weighty nod. While chanting, he raises his scepter and from its tip a soft transparent bubble begins to expend until it swallows the group entirely.

Upon feeling herself rising, the caller becomes startled and trips forward. But instead of falling face-first onto the ground, she performs a full, effortless somersault that sways her back into an upright position. She looks down and sees that her feet are now dangling several inches off the floor, her weightless body completely suspended in midair. And it's not just her, both men are also caught in the same predicament.

"This should aid in slowing our descent," the sage says with perfect composure while the other two have more trouble maintaining their balance, "We jump on my signal. Are the two of you ready?"

Both nod, the shadow knight with mild absence and the caller only after much reluctance. She doesn't want to be the one slowing them down, and so she holds back the queasiness in the pit of her stomach.

"Rydia," her guardian calls out. She looks to see Cecil with his back to her, crouched down and gesturing with both hands. Figuring out what he wants, she hops on and the shadow knight carries her piggyback style, "When the time comes, close your eyes and hold your breath. Don't let go no matter what, understand?"

Though still highly unprepared, the caller manages a wordless nod. The two men move towards the cliff side and stops just inches along the edge. Several beats pass in nervous anticipation, then Tellah begins the countdown.

"5..."

Cecil leans forward, which in turn causes her eyesight to fall on the landscape below, and suddenly the volume of the roaring rapids besides them feels like it increased tenfold.

"...4..."

The distance seems so much greater as she stares straight down the cliff side and watches the plummeting water dissipate into vapor clouds at base of the waterfall. Her shaky hold clasps tighter while her face is pressed up against the shadow knight's shoulder, whatever imitation of courage she had left is quickly dwindling.

"...3..."

She suddenly feels her whole body pop up, her grip loosening and her vision no longer darkened as a result, and the caller finds that it was Cecil's doing after he placed the flat side of his sheathe sword under her for better support.

"...2..."

Looking at him, she wonders how in the world can he remain so perfectly calm in this situation, _"No, not really calm. More like... whatever happens to him, he's ready."_

In both Mist and Kaipo, the caller imagines this is how Cecil must have looked like had she chanced a glance up at him during either one of those battles. His expression is so finely focused that it offers no room for either compassion or solace. But that's fine for her, because it also breaks free from the illusions of false hope and empty promises.

"...1!"

The group jumps, and Rydia entrusts it all to her guardian who's eyes glimmer with the resolve to see them all safely through.

* * *

The whopping plunge jars him to his very core, like the shock of a thousand needles piercing into his flesh. It takes all of Cecil's willpower just to keep from passing out as his sunken body floats listlessly within the pond. Regaining enough strength, the dark knight pushes through the pressure and swims upward.

He breaks the surface in a gasp for air and hears a second set of lungs breathing deeply behind him. Rydia had done a fine job following his instructions, and he can see Tellah had recovered with remarkable haste. Already, the sage is moving alongside the regional walls and is halfway to a jagged stone staircase, the only path which leads further up to the surrounding land dike.

The dark knight paddles, still carrying his ward, to the shallow ends where the water fluctuates between waist- and ankle-deep. While following after Tellah, he picks up on a subtle yet increasing disturbance.

It's the sound of rippling water. Even with his vision blocked by mounds of rock and gravel, Cecil knows something huge is stealthfully submerged beneath the lake, swimming back and forth along the outer walls until its presence resides just outside the thinnest portion of the dam.

Just as the sage had planned, the Octomammoth is barred from reaching the other side due to the land strip separating the two great bodies of water. However, things aren't so simple as to end there. The dark knight witnesses eight orange tentacles rising from the depths before slamming heavily down.

*Baab-baab-baab-baab-baab-baab-baab-baaB!*

That systematic, ground pounding sound echoes repeatedly as the lake monster proceeds to flatten the rocky barrier hindering it.

*Baab-baab-baab-baab-baab-baab-baab-baaB!*

His eyes transfix on the sight, Cecil remains unaware as his foothold abruptly ends at the worst possible moment right in front of him.

A costly mistake, a fatal misstep sends the upper portion of his body plunging into the pond. His head pops back up a second later, yet horrid dread starts building as he finds himself alone: the familiar weight of his ward no longer at his back.

He dives down and locates the summoner quickly as she's being swept further away by an underwater stream funneling into a large burrow. Cecil grabs hold of her in time and somehow manages to swim back up, barely escaping from the vortex himself.

Immediately after resurfacing, Rydia coughs and wheezes out the water filling her windpipe while Cecil's attention is drawn back to the Octomammoth, its gigantic, gelatinous mass now within plain sight on top of the dam.

He wrenches his eyes away from the sight and moves. Yet the pull of the current is still too strong, and that along with keeping Rydia above water with one arm while the other holds onto his sheathe sword makes swimming an arduous task. The sea creature inches just as slowly across land, using all of its tentacles to drag its deadweight body along. But while the beast only has a small strip of ground to cross, the gulf of water which lies in between them and the coast is nearly 15 times as great.

Just as his thoughts start turning desperate, Cecil feels a brush of hot air fly high above him and he turns just in time to see a fireball striking the ground in front of the beast, making it to reel away from the still-burning blaze.

He looks back towards the source and finds Tellah atop of a broad, high-rising platform at the sharpest corner of the land dike, chanting feverishly under his breath as two blazing orbs start to materialize in front of him.

"Quickly!" the sage urges and with the head of his scepter, he whacks the orbs in 1-2 succession. The fiery missiles careen down at the Octomammoth and quickly find their mark, the first scraping alongside one of its many tentacles while the other squarely slams into its forehead. The creature wails from the blow yet it's not nearly enough to deter the monster's pursuit of its two helpless quarries.

It's a race against time. Tellah continues providing cover and buy them precious seconds while Cecil redoubles his efforts to reach the shoreline. He wills himself to keep swimming if just a little faster, ignoring the signals his body is giving of its aching fatigue.

Only after several seconds of inactivity does he begin to realize that the situation had changed: and it had taken a turn for the worse. The dark knight looks up and discovers Tellah holding off the assault, his spells currently on standby. He then dares to glance back along with Rydia and they both find nothing. Whether it's on top of the dam or residing beneath the pond, neither hair nor hide of the monster can be seen anywhere.

*DOOUM!*

A booming sound reverberates loudly throughout the entire gorge. The quality and feel: it was the same as the defiant strike from a battering ram, and it's only after hearing it a second time does its origins become known.

*DOOOUUM!*

Deep cracks begin spreading across the wall of the dam, right below the spot where the Octomammoth was previously at, and Cecil finally realizes. It had dove back into the lake, completely shielded now from the sage's magic, and is proceeding to break through by force.

*DOOOOUUUM!*

Water begins squirting out from the fissures at an alarming rate; just one more hit is all it'll take.

*DOOOUSSSWWOOOOOOOSSHHHH!*

Lake water bursts out like a vertical geyser and even over the roaring outpour, the sea creature can still be heard dunking into the pond far behind them. But the flood creates an unforeseen effect of overpowering the underwater vortex and freeing them from its influence, which in turn allows both he and Rydia to ride along those same waves as it brings them closer to shore.

Tellah resumes raining down spells one after another, knowing it's all in vain yet he can think of nothing else but to try, and Cecil doesn't need to see his ward's terrified face to feel the Octomammoth is fast approaching. But what's even stronger is his own intuition, and it's telling him that they finally—

There..! He can feel his toes scrape across the seafloor. Cecil stretches out to regain solid footing and immediately pushes his way through the weighty resistance. The water level is up to his nose. Now down to his chin.

The Octomammoth closes the miniscule gap and begins utilizing its tentacles to capture its quarry's legs.

Below the neck. Descending to his shoulders. Now at mid-chest.

But through a combination of the dark knight's dexterity, luck and perseverance, each grappling attempt ends in a crop failure. The creature aims higher, to the larger, less nimble body part of his waist.

Water comes up just above his stomach. He's gotten close enough and quickly pushes Rydia the rest of the way forward – his right hand now free.

The Octomammoth's hold completely encircles his torso in its vise-like grip, ready to drag him down to his watery grave, but Cecil moves just a split second faster, twisting around while drawing his sword in one swift motion. The velocity easily slices the water surface wide open and the blade cuts acutely into its tender flesh.

Its wrapped tentacle instantly turns limp and two more quickly shoot up from the pond in retribution. Yet they are merely exposed targets for the dark knight to hack and slash away like overgrown weeds, and after having its two other limbs thoroughly severed, the monster makes a full retreat back into the depths.

With the pond two meters higher now and rising, Cecil doesn't stop backpedaling until he resides well above the shoreline.

A long, unblinking moment passes. He then flops onto the stone steps, allowing himself room to breathe, and his ward comes to sit beside him looking concerned yet more so relieved.

Cecil continues to watch the steady flow of outpouring floodwater, its waves concealing whatever ripples of movement the Octomammoth is surely making.

* * *

The immediate threat has passed and Tellah is able to breathe easy. To have fought back the beast in such dire conditions, the mercenary's combat prowess has well exceeded his expectations. With this, his primary worries are laid to rest and he can now even consider Cecil's duty complete; he needs only to focus on fulfilling his own role.

The sage takes out and drinks from his metal flask, emptying its contents of the leftover hi-ether. Chanting magic in such quick succession had placed too heavy a drain on his aged body, and in part he wishes the circumstances would have allowed him to keep a little of the liquid mana in reserve. But the overall situation has worked out well in their favor. The Octomammoth is now confined within a far smaller radius where even an indirect strike from the Arcana Hex will permanently cripple, if not outright slay the beast.

Tellah retrieves the scroll containing the Great Magic Thundaja, the highest achieved mastery of its class within the elemental-3 series. It would have been better if he was able to recall the weaker, yet more battle-oriented variations of Thundaga or even Thundara instead. But beggars can't be choosers and the sage can only hope that all of today's conjuration was enough, that he was able to regain over a decade's worth of practice within the frame of a single day.

He grabs the knot and unravels the scroll with gusto, spreading it wide while holding it up along with his scepter. He then begins reciting the spell's extensive incantation.

Modern hexes nowadays are strictly cast through group synchronization, a qualified band of three being the ideal number of participants. The first unit works on laying the proper groundwork, from harvesting the tremendous flux of mana necessary to calculating and compensating for any outside variables which may affect the spell's creation and overall effectiveness. The second's job is exclusively focused on molding the magic until it reaches materialized completion. The third is charged with suppressing the counterflow of excess energy during its unstable stages of preparation and is chiefly responsible for the party's supervision. What's more, the unit also serves as a liaison between each member involved, a task which will vary in difficulty depending on the whole group's compatibility.

All the mana gathers into a singular point high above the sage, and what starts off as a tiny speck grows into a colorless, distorted sphere looming in the sky, its size roughly ¼ the scale of the entire regional gorge.

Compressing all this mana while maintaining its integrity is too toilsome an undertaking with how he is now. Regardless, Tellah continues reading into the second set of verses and soon the sphere alters in color, deepening to a radiant violet, while its raw composition starts shifting into the purest of all lightning.

Amidst his concentration, Tellah notes a figure climbing up to the high-rising platform and sees that it's Rydia, the mercenary's charge, or to be more precise, a residential child from the Valley of Mist. Cecil must have sent her over here for her own safety, not knowing this is perhaps the most hazardous zone to be presently in.

She stands apprehensively, as far back as possible from the sage. A smart girl; despite neither being taught nor exposed to the arcane teachings of Mysidia, she's somehow subconsciously aware of the hex's instability, _"Is this due in part to her lineage as a summoner? Perhaps they are simply more in tuned, better adept at picking up the slight subtleties within the property of all things mystic—"_

Huge, meandering streams of electricity jump throughout the sphere's surface before drawing back into it fortunately. The sage grits back and reprimands himself; he should never have let his mind wonder for even a second. Already the pressure is beyond unbearable and protection must be placed before matters continue to fall out of his control.

After a series of chants, Tellah encloses his spread arms and several green-tinted wards begin encompassing the hex's outer perimeter. As soon as these glass-like reflectors are placed they are put to work, catching the stray bolts and recycling its dissipated mana back into the sphere where it will be materialized once. He continues his spell-casting, mindful about reinforcing any of the protective layer's heavily assailed segments.

43%.

51%.

58%.

64% spell completion.

By this time the floodwater has stopped pouring into the pond, yet even so the atmospheric distortion is causing the surrounding waters to ripple as if running away. The wards grow weaker in proportion with the hex's increasing power, and soon the sage can no longer keep up with the force of his own magic.

72%.

75%.

77%.

One of the wards shatters with a thunderous crush and a burst of light shoots up diagonally into the vacant sky. Tellah fears he has reached his limit, trying to squeeze out whatever reserves he may yet possess.

79%.

80%.

He uses his last ounce of mana to repair the tear yet three more wards break down in rapid sequence. It's extremely risky to release an incomplete hex, and in all good conscious Tellah knows he shouldn't. But the situation has already grown far too dangerous.

*DOOUM!*

A rumble shakes the very foundations of the wide, circular platform both he and Rydia reside on. This distinct sound, it can only be that of the Octomammoth's ramming attack. Yet now, its location has become a dead giveaway, _"Truly, there can be no better timing."_

The sage aims at the nearest corner of the pond and scrolls to the last incantation, ready to unleash the Great Magic Thundaja, but a voice shouts from far below and demands an unreasonable request, "Hold, Tellah!"

He sees Cecil, still by the sunken stone steps, as he scouts the pond area while submerged deep within its waters: well within ground zero of the hex's blast zone, _"That fool..!"_

*DOOOUUM!*

Tellah nearly crumples trying to rein back his magic while the unknowing mercenary swims closer to the area where the rumbling is heard, where it should be originating from. Yet despite his nearing proximity, he is neither assaulted nor engaged by the beast.

Cecil gazes up at him, his face wholly certain, "It's nowhere here!"

*DOOOOUUUM!*

The latest tumor causes one side of the platform to tip down, and the two mages stumble: three steps backwards into the tilt. Tellah turns away from the pond and looks to the lake. But regardless, he's still staring at the same body of water now flowing equally throughout the whole region.

*DOOUMMMMMMMMM!*

The fourth and final strike shatters the stone pillar and half of the platform topples into the lake. They're thrown off kilter by the jarring crash and the sage's precious parchment drops from his hand.

_"No—!" _he quickly crawls down and tries stopping the scroll from rolling into the waters below. But just as he's about to grab hold, Tellah feels has neck yanking back and halting his forward movement. He can see Rydia from the corner of his eyes pulling at his mantle with mighty strain, and a moment later a large banging tentacle smashes mere inches in front of him and rocks them both into the slanted ground.

Tellah glances up and sees the Octomammoth in all its glory, fully arisen and ready to bring forth the titanic mass of its limbs directly down upon them, but the danger it imposes is dwarfed by the flaring buzz of unchecked electricity emitting from the glowing eye in the sky.

The sage shields the caller just as a dynamical discharge shoots down and blows them clear away.

* * *

Dim awareness slowly returns yet Tellah hears nothing but white noise, that monotonous ringing disconnected from those wavy, overlaying frames of fuzzy still motion.

His eyes take in the sight of a large copper and blacken blur. Vaguely, he sees the Octomammoth as it reels and sways in mortal agony before crashing backwards into the lake with a spectacular splash.

He notes the child, Rydia, extremely close to him and vertically angled in an impossible direction. Tellah blinks, then he realizes it's his own perception which is curiously tilted.

Tug. Jerk. Push. Pull. Her muted mouth working, the caller seems to be doing anything and everything in her power to rouse him awake, to motivate him off the ground.

His eyesight drifts far away. He catches the distant figure of the mercenary frantically running along the land dike, mindless of the electrical surges spraying everywhere in the air. He shouts something, his face of utmost panic, yet the sage can scarcely hear.

"-k-u-..! Te-ah! Th-s-el-! Re-oke the -pell!"

Reflexively, the sage turns his eyes and looks overhead.

The beast has fallen. Now, they alone remain under the eye of the storm: and its gaze is staring directly at them.

This realization comes with a final flash and his vision washes away in a sea of instant white.

* * *

Light and fury assault the two mages, yet the feel of heaven's wrath is never brought down. The judgment bolt misses them by several yards and a great eruption blasts the waters right by the slowly sinking platform.

Even after witnessing it firsthand, the sage just can't believe his eyes. Over three decades he had been a prime scholar and chief researcher in the foundation of Mysidia's magecraft, so he better than anyone should know. For that thunderous bolt to have veered so sharply off its trajectory is simply infeasible; this goes beyond anything dumb luck can achieve and crosses straight into the realms of divine intervention.

Tellah shakes his head to clear his mind. No time now to think of the impossible as he looks up and sees all forms of lightning seep out from the wards' breakage, the entire protective layer on the verge of collapsing. He shakily stands, clamps his hands tightly together and retakes hold of the hex.

The sage chants in a hushed murmur as if in prayer, calling for the Great Magic's cancellation, and the colossal eye gradually shrinks. But more problems arise as his memory starts failing him, progressively blotting out bits and pieces of the verses crucial to the spell's abortion.

With each incorrect line spoken, the sphere of magic surges even more chaotically, and severe, meandering streams of lightning begin carving up the entire landscape. Tellah holds fast and hastens his words. And it's only when the flow of mana completely subsides does he dare look up.

The sphere is gone, leaving only the buzz of electrostatic to saturate the airspace. His energy spent, his knees buckle under him. Somehow, he has done it.

A huge splash erupts out of the waters and reveals the Octomammoth – still alive even after half of its face has been scorched to cinders. The caller reflexively turns towards the noise, blinking out of her daze just in time to flee up as far as the sinking platform will allow her. Yet Tellah, who's beyond exhausted, can neither escape nor break free from the tentacles snaking around his right wrist and thigh.

A powerful yank nearly draws his whole body into the waters, but a leaping shadow passes overhead, lands on top of the beast's face and drives the point of his sword directly into its one good eye.

"Go!" Cecil yells over the creature's crazed screeching and he twists the blade still lodged inside its socket, erecting a sick, wet sound as milky pus leaks faster from the gaping wound. The Octomammoth lets loose a ear-piercing shriek and bucks wildly, knocking him down. Depraved of its sight, it furiously reaches out and feels everywhere for its hated quarry.

He slashes at the advancing tentacles, holding his ground until Tellah is able to safely withdraw. However, no matter how many pieces of flesh and meat are hacked away, the persistent beast thrusts its able-bodied limbs onward; already it has been driven pass the point of pain and reason. Little resistance can be made after his sword arm is subdued and three more tentacles quickly constrain the mercenary. The sea creature dives back into the lake, dragging him down along with it.

Both mages stare into the now vacant space; it all happened so fast that it seems so surreal, and the sudden transition from chaotic to tranquil makes it all the harder to process. But the air bubbles ascending to the water surface validate everything.

Cecil is in the midst of drowning: and they can do nothing to stop it from happening.

Rydia still watches, unmoving and unblinking, while Tellah turns away and curses his own powerlessness, knowing that even in his prime, there was no magic in his forgotten arsenal that can rescue the mercenary.

A final gulp of oxygen bubbles up, then the waters become terribly calm.

"Come child, nothing more can be done here..." the sage says softly yet her only response is a slow then fierce shake of her head. He allows a few moments to pass before trying again, "Don't allow his sacrifice to be in vain."

"No..!" she cries out while turning her shoulders away from his touch. The sage can see her back quivering in a suppressed whimper and his sympathies go out to her; it must be difficult for one so young to witness death for the very first time.

Then, as if by a flick of a switch, the caller grows still in a snap instant. Believing her to have calmed down, Tellah reaches out once more but immediately recoils upon feeling a burning sting. The sage grips his frostbitten fingers while looking back at Rydia and notices the small cold puffs becoming more visible with each steady exhale. The atmosphere around the child has fallen well below the freezing point, how she's even surviving within it eludes him, and its area of effect expands until razor-thin layers of ice begins forming in patches on top of the water. He has no idea what she's aiming to accomplish here, but encasing the mercenary beneath the lake won't be helping matters any.

Rydia drops to her knees and the air gradually returns to normal; perhaps she has given up after realizing the futility of it all, _"She tried her best. That is more than anyone can ask of her."_

Tellah is about to take the crestfallen child away but something distracts him. Originating from the caller, a pale, opaque line is coloring the slanted ground and traveling downward. Upon hitting the waters, it instantly freezes a concentrated, circular portion and completely stops the remaining tip of the platform from sinking any further.

Even as the sage wanders in front of Rydia, her glazed eyes remain rooted on the icy spot and continue staring right through him like he isn't even there. Several seconds pass and a continuous sound akin to crinkling paper can still be heard, yet the surrounding environment seems unchanged and Tellah is unable to see where exactly the ice is forming from. It isn't until he comes to stand on top of the column of solid ice does he begin to realize.

A target section at the bottom of the lake is being frozen from the ground up, and a giant iceberg about 75 feet in diameter is rapidly rising to the surface, carrying with it both Cecil and the Octomammoth.

It emerges out of the waters, bobbing along with the waves, and the sage quickly guides the leftover electrostatic and fires, zapping the tentacles wrapped around its quarry.

The mercenary drops down, hacking and gasping for air, and Tellah pulls him a safe distance away before the beast can hammer him into the iceberg. He struggles to scramble back on his feet but the sage kneels, placing a hand on his shoulder and uttering a single word, "Patience."

His body sluggish and his senses dull, Cecil lies wretched on the ground and can do little more than obey. They both look straight ahead and lie witness to the beast, thrashing about and sending large chips of ice huddling in all directions. The ice's slipperiness provides no traction for the Octomammoth and it skids forward: right into the hole its pounding has made. The tiny ditch can't be more than 3 inches deep, yet it's enough to seal the sea creature's movement.

Seeing this, the mercenary tries standing in order to take quick advantage yet Tellah's hands remain firmly where they are, holding him down and keeping him in place, "Simply wait."

Baffled, Cecil nevertheless follows the sage's guidance and watches as the beast fight harder than ever. It isn't until several minutes have passed before he begins to understand.

Its thrashing dies down and another sound can be distinctly heard, one that's akin to heavy wind filtering through a damp, narrow duct. The noise comes from the creature's gills, pumping in and emptying out only the outside air. Water remains everywhere, yet its very lifeline has solidified into its prison as Octomammoth lies stranded within a hollow of its own making. It's an appropriate end for the beast who favored suffocating and drowning its victims until their dying breath.

With a last gasping intake, the Octomammoth shrivels up and expires without another sound.

Cecil stares at its still form for a little while longer before turning to him and rasping out, "Thank you, Tellah... It would have been the end of me if not for your aid."

"Though your gratitude is greatly appreciated, I believe much of it is misguided," the sage replies as he casts a meaningful glance towards the now unconscious caller.

"Rydia? You mean it was her?" Cecil asks, mildly stunned. Tellah nods and the mercenary pauses, as if not fully knowing what expression he should be making, "Is that so..."

The sage stands and glimpses up at the orange shaded skies, "Come. It has been an exhausting endeavor and much rest is required to replenish our strength."

With the child in tow, the two men backtrack and soon return to Tellah's campsite where the caller's white chocobo remains sleeping by his tent. He reignites the campfire with a simple spell while Cecil lays Rydia onto the side of the bird's big cushy body and sits crossed-legged besides her, his face etched with slight worry, "Do you know what might be wrong with her, Tellah? That is, if this lies within your expertise. Is it normal for someone her age to be fainting after casting such potent magic?"

The sage considers while taking a seat in front of the fire. His closest hypothesis is that the caller may be stricken with Mana Pool exhaustion. Yet even if her low mana pool was to be tapped completely dry, the subconscious mind places natural limiters that prevent any undo, premature stress on the body, which in turn should never allow the caller to pass out like this, "Tell me. Has this happened before?"

"... A similar incident had occurred, and she was comatose for a few days after."

"Then, let us pray that bed rest is all she requires. For I can find nothing amiss, or to be more accurate, I am unaware of the finer details which could drive her into such a state," Tellah responds as he readjusts his spectacles, "She is, after all, the first child of Mist I have ever seen outside its restricted boundaries."

"So, you've known all along," Cecil states, letting a little more of his guard down, and to which the sage nods.

"It was merely an inkling at first. Yet the more I observed her, the more I grew certain," Tellah answers, "I have encountered many who come from an extended line of arcane ancestry, and it is certain this child does not belong to any of those distinguishable families. I know of only one other place which facilitates such natural mystic potency without incurring any forms of notoriety, and that is those residing within Mist Valley."

His eyes grow distant while his features become wistful upon recalling the lost memory.

"Yes... It was 50 years ago to this day. Back then, I was still in apprenticeship and had been one of the two privileged youths to join in the expedition to the cryptic location, that small strip of land isolated from the rest of the free world. Mist had remained largely uncharted at the time, protected by a force field of unknown quantity that warded off would-be intruders from accessing the valley. The barrier itself had been harmless, yet effective in its ability to disrupt one's visual perception and sense of awareness.

It was astonishing. Mind-manipulation sorcery is extremely sensitive, much more so if the individual's psyche bears a similar human complexity, and a small miscalculation will cause immediate breakdown or bring about wild, unpredictable results. For the citizens of Mist to have always maintained such a sophisticated, wide spread hex around their borders: it truly had been an amazing feat. Only after months of trial and error did we succeed in producing a counter spell which could neutralize the barrier's effects for our entourage.

As one might expect, our forced entree was received unfavorably and our reception had been a little less than welcoming. Yet even still we offered a proposal for an equal exchange, to pool our collective knowledge together and share the secrets of our respective magecrafts for the betterment of both parties involved."

The sage's lax smile throughout his recollection soon dips into a repressed scowl.

"Much to our chagrin, however, the residents of Mist adamantly refused and grew deaf to all other compromises we had set forward. All they wished from us was our banishment from their village.

From that day onward, they had placed an even greater barrier, one which actively displaces any trespassers who enter a set radius and physically prevents their progress into the valley. And so once more, its residents returned to their sheltered, meager existence."

Tellah ruefully shakes his head as his flashback comes to an end. Even now, this past event remains one of his long lasting regrets. For someone like him, who has since gone on to transcribe countless scriptures and help unravel the mystic unknowns, the sage can only see their refusal to cooperate – their utter lack of action as wasted potential.

He supposes that's the fundamental difference which separates them. While Mysidia has always been an institute dedicated to the pursuit of higher learning, Mist seems more like a culture where magic is passed down merely for the sake of tradition. At least, that's the only answer which makes any sense to him.

"Ultimately, we did not achieve our primary aim, yet not all was proven futile. For example, though the scale is vastly smaller, the psychic barrier surrounding this very campsite and many other safe havens around the world are mass-produced replicas of Mist's warding hex, set now to a frequency which affects only the common monsters roaming those specified regions. The magical technique of group synchronization also stems from their influence, though our concept was created with neither form nor basis and is thus unlikely comparable to their own unique method. Even the inner workings behind the Serpent's Road are grounded on the properties of time/space magic, elements shared by the arcane art of summoning. Granted, it is highly improbable that the residents of Mist played any type of role in the portal's development. This does place into question, however, on where the technology truly originates from..."

"Might I ask a question?" Cecil finally interrupts, stopping the sage from going further into his off-beat tangent, "You spoke before of there being no relations between Mist and Mysidia. Then how is it possible for Rydia to even be performing black magic at all?"

"Ah, yes. Well, we can only hope to speculate. Though nothing is certain, there are quite a few possibilities. For one, there is always the chance that I was mistaken regarding the summoners' arcane progression, or they might have intentionally concealed the full range of their latent abilities. A separate magecraft similar to Mysidia's could have very well been constructed long before our untimely visit, which in turn would explain their outright refusal to collaborate with us. It is also possible that an outsider was accepted into their ranks and had since spread the mystic word amongst its people. Or perhaps what we just witnessed was some advance form or subdivision of summoning that does not require the presence of an eidolon in order to activate. Or it could be that this child is the lone exception, that she is just extraordinarily gifted in all areas pertaining to sorcery."

"A single person or a whole community... so it's comes down to either one or the other," the mercenary simplifies, looking as if he's weighed down by deeper matters, "Well regardless, I suppose nothing changes the fact that Rydia makes for an exceedingly powerful mage."

"... I see you are still misunderstanding one key factor. The might of her sorcery is indeed noteworthy, though nothing beyond the ordinary. Given enough time, research and practice, even beginners with low magic depositions can reach the heights she has displayed. But because this child is able to operate outside any known perimeters, they cannot hope to duplicate her success," he explains in the face of the mercenary's growing confusion. The sage considers for a moment before drawing attention to the kindling campfire, "Perhaps an example will better illustrate the point. As you are well aware, the fire here is one born of my own creation. Yet what would happen should I hold my hand above these flames?"

Cecil mulls the question over, perhaps thinking there's some sort of deeper meaning behind it, before he arrives at the logical conclusion, "You'll get burned of course."

Nodding, Tellah continues, "Our magecraft is one that merely guides the mana to its proper course. Once fully manifested, we cannot hope to take complete control, for the purest of magic is indiscriminate and will harm us as surely as any foe.

This is but one of the crowning principles, the boundaries which all magicians have come to know and must inevitably meet. Yet for whatever unforeseen circumstances, such an issue does not exist for this child. To put matters simply, her command over sorcery is at a level of intimacy we mages today are still very far from attaining."

Understanding begins dawning on the mercenary's face, though it's too mild a reaction for Tellah to believe he fully comprehends the magnitude of her unique scenario.

After seeing the caller's sorcery and the future prospect it can bring, even during his various discussions regarding magecraft, the sage realizes his own passion for the arcane arts hasn't dwindled in the slightest. Deep down, he harbors lingering regrets of having left that lifestyle behind.

Tellah closes his eyes, needing to remind himself once again, _"Again. Never forget what is truly important now..."_

His gaze opens and falls upon the caller, noting her motionless state lapse into a dreamless slumber.

"Softly asleep, hm?" Tellah observes. Her weight slowly leans to one side while she's dozing and her head taps into the mercenary's arm. Not wanting to disturb her, he doesn't bother moving and the slumbering child shifts around a bit to get more comfy, "She's quite fond of you I see."

Cecil sits there, a look of reluctancy passing over his face as he quietly questions, "Is she..? Does it really seem that way?"

"It does." Tellah states surely. He continues looking on and his eyes soften, "So much like Anna was..."

"Anna? And who might that be?"

"My daughter. There is little in the way of resemblance, yet gazing upon this child's face reminds me very much of her," a profound pause, then the sage wistfully continues on, "Yes... many long years have since passed. She had been so young then... If only she displayed but a fraction of what this child has shown, our lives perhaps could have played out so very differently... "

The sage blinks out of his recollection and offers Cecil his apologizes, "Forgive my nonsensical rumblings. Surely you would not be interested in hearing the tiresome life story of an aged old man."

"... There's still a long night ahead of us. If anything, it can do well to help pass the time."

He eyes the mercenary, feeling his words were not spoken lightly nor was it to satisfy his own curiosity. Tellah eases a bit, grateful for his consideration, "That, is perhaps very true. Well then...

Everything began nearly 2 decades ago, back when Anna was still little and our family still whole. We had all been living together in Mysidia where, due to my personal connections and influence there, she had qualified for a free scholarship and a reserved seat into the intermediate level of sorcery, provided she continue performing well in her classes.

Back then, it had been... unfathomable for me to think her incapable of achieving the proper results. She was born into a long lineage of magicians after all. So naturally, her deposition should be higher than most in her generation. But Anna never took her lessons to heart. She held no desires to carry on our family's legacy, her sole aspiration was to follow her own dreams of becoming a performing dancer.

All the signs had been there, yet I discarded them as little more than a child's whimsical play. It was her mother, Samantha, that later saw in our daughter what I could not. And as I continued driving Anna to excel in the path I wanted for her, I was doing nothing more than unwittingly pushing the both of them away.

Eventually, a nasty quarrel had ensued concerning the best course for our daughter's future. Spiteful words were exchanged in the growing heat of that argument and heartfelt feelings were crushed beneath them.

It was a moment in time that could never be taken back. Both Samantha and I separated soon afterwards, and she along with Anna moved back to her hometown of Kaipo while I remained in Mysidia."

The sage removes his spectacles and busies himself by wiping the lens sedately. Granted, that was just one of the many ongoing marital issues which had led to their fallout. But he, in his stubborn foolishness, did nothing to amend when time still allowed him that chance. Even if a court jury were to find him the least accountable for everything that had transpired, none of that really matters when you end up alone with only happier memories to haunt your solitary nights.

"5 years had come and gone in no time at all, and I received word from them at long last.

It had been a telegram, stating that my ex-wife had passed away due to the desert fever..."

Tellah pauses in his monologue, needing a moment to himself, before he finally places the spectacles back on his face.

"... I saw Anna for the first time in ages at the funeral ceremony. She had grown so much that I barely recognized her, yet she remembered all too well of me and affronted only cold hostility.

I knew matters must be taken delicately if we were to become a family once again, yet all my careful consideration and planning were so quickly laid to waste in the very first step.

At the legal adult age of 15, Anna could freely choose to live an independent lifestyle from there after. She had exercised that right upon refusing to fall under my custody, deciding to remain in Kaipo where the goodwill and support of Samantha's relatives would be there for her instead.

In that crucial moment, I had grown wise to her ways and realized what she had come to anticipate from me. And so, while standing in front of her mother's grave, I was left with either fulfilling those expectations or running counter against them," Tellah states with a bitter, sorrowful smile, "To choose between the continuing pursuit of my life's work or to wholeheartedly resume my parental responsibilities; you must think me atrocious to even contemplate the two."

Cecil grows passive, saying nothing of the matter. His silence says it all, however, and truthfully the sage can't blame him. He has since felt the same about himself from the very moment she came to be a part of his life again.

"Yes, I can understand. For a father to have always compromised his one and only daughter; it makes perfect sense then for Anna to scorn and rebel against me at every turn. Her favorite foods and certain allergies; her hobbies, dislikes and interests; her hopes; her dreams: all those minor, yet significant things were previously foreign to me and only then did I begin discovering."

The wrinkles around his face grow more profound and causes the sage to look decidedly older. To have realized this at so late a stage, he really is a hopeless case. Little by little, he had thought their stained relationship was being re-mended, that they were slowly becoming a family once again. Yet even now as her father, Anna disregarded his last true wish for her and ran straight into the arms of that dastardly man, leaving just a solitary note laying on her empty bedside.

Not a single, damnable thing has changed since that time. No matter how much he sacrificed or how hard he tried correcting his errant ways, he still doesn't mean anything at all to her.

"Because I was never the father figure she so deserved... because I would never consent to their wedlock. In retaliation, she had ran away to elope with that despicable bard."

"A bard..?" Cecil questions and the sage gravely nods.

"One who goes by the name of Edward. However, that is merely an alias, a false identity he assumed so that he could easily coax my daughter into his thieving clutches," Tellah replies with spiteful distaste, "Both the failings of the transport route as well as the sea creature's blockade of this gorge, it is by far and wide too large of a coincidence. I can only presume that wicked bard has somehow played his hand in all of this."

That's right. It's impossible for the sage to give his Anna away, not after he neglected so many of her childhood years, and especially not to that meek, useless bard who can do nothing more than prance around in dance and song. Love as sudden and fleeting as theirs will never survive. That's why he must stop his daughter from ever undergoing that same broken heartache at all cost.

Tellah takes his scepter in hand and rises to his feet. He may have only made mistakes one after another throughout his lifetime, but allowing Anna to marry that cowardly bard is an error that will never come to pass. On this he vows.

* * *

Even long after Tellah had retired for the day, the dark knight is left sitting in front of the campfire with much on his mind. The night drags on and finally he gives an onward sigh, deciding it's better to at least go inside his own tent and escape the damp, chilly air. He moves to stand, though that slight movement still causes Rydia to stir.

"Sorry. Did I wake you?" Cecil asks, though he's more thankful to see his ward responsive after only a few hours time.

The summoner motions with her head, but it was so miniscule that it's hard to say whether she gave a nod or a shake. Her misty gaze continues to rest on the kindling fire, drifting between the twilight of wake and dream.

"...nowhere here...

'cause of me...he died..?"

_"Died? Because of her..?"_ the dark knight wonders in puzzlement, "Just who are you talking about?"

"...big...orangey...squidy..."

"I see... so you saw..." he murmurs in reply. Truthfully, Cecil isn't quite certain what this means for someone like her, a summoner who partners with sacred beasts freely at will, and he, like the countless veteran soldiers before him, has stopped giving much thought to the moral ambiguity of monster slaying. But regardless of age, race or gender, laying witness to one's first kill is sure to be an emotionally jarring experience. But for one who has already undergone so much; it seems needlessly cruel for her to be burdened with this as well, "It's not anything you could of prevented. So don't blame yourself..."

His first thoughts were to actually point out all the good she's done, that he's only alive because of her. But he just couldn't bring himself to utter those words: not to her.

Still, what he said was also the truth. Having sustained too many injuries, the Octomammoth would have probably died after a day or so even without her intervention. Yet that reason alone isn't enough for the young summoner and she continues grasping for the full meaning behind it all.

"...even if...he just wants to live..?"

Pausing, Cecil muses for an answer that will best satisfy her, "Whether they be man or beast, every living creature born on this earth shares that same instinct, and in that way we're no different from anyone or anything else. But cases of conflict will always exist, and only the correct course of action can be taken when those times arise."

"...then...he's the one who's wrong..?"

Again he gives pause, approaching the subject with delicacy, "Unfortunately, morality holds no place here, because we each carry our own selfish justifications for wanting to live. Yet also keep in mind, for that beast to survive, many more human lives would constantly need to be sacrificed."

"...it's that simple..?

just living hurts people..?"

Hearing her reply causes Cecil to hesitate, recalling a long forgotten time when everything inside his own little world was painted simply in either black or white, back when his concept of justice still coincided with everything that was good and right, "As sad as it is to say, that's simply the reality. No matter how much we might wish it not to be..."

"... so that's why...

everyone's gone..."

It's like slow-acting poison coursing through his bloodstream. Cecil can steadily feel his nerves seizing up on him, unconsciously aware of the terrible change in topic.

"...lots of people...must be hurting...if we all died...

it's the right choice...right..?"

His whole body turns rigid as if overcome with sudden petrification. It's too painful to hear; for what reason does the chief victim of Mist's tragedy have to be talking like this? And then everything he had said comes rushing back to him, _"It's my fault... She hasn't even mourned yet, and yet she—It would of been far better if she just condemned me..."_

"...but...

why am I..."

_"Stop—"_

"the only one alive..?"

"Just stop..!" he forcefully breaths out and his ward grows passive, if only momentarily.

"...then why..?

why did this happen..?"

She continues to question absently, trying to make some sense out of the broken pieces in her life. And here he is; the instigator who laid to ruin that very life, "... I may not know the reason, but I do know that we're the ones who were completely in the wrong. So don't ever try to justify this. Never think for a single moment that this was ever meant to be right. Promise me, alright?"

"...okay...

but cecil..?

... you're not making sense anymore..."

A soulful sigh escapes the dark knight; he just doesn't have the answers to anything anymore. If he was the type of man who can be truly satisfied with himself, then tales of boundless regret would have never inked the pages of his wrongful life, "Nowadays, I think that exact same thing too..."

Rydia grows quiet as slumber wins over and Cecil takes this opportunity to put her to bed. He returns to their spot and pauses, being sucked into the glow of the black red embers himself. Several beats pass, then he squats down and tosses in some loose dirt to smother the fire, and all becomes dark.

* * *

Morning arrives. The ice has melted overnight and the gorge once more regains its pristine state. The Octomammoth's body is nowhere to be found, sunken now at the bottom of the lake, and the dark knight thinks the better of it; he'd rather not have anything to remind Rydia of what transpired here.

The group travels onward through passages, tunnels, streams and everything else in between until they finally arrive above ground where huge dunes of sand await them. And there, along the horizon, the castle of Damcyan can scarcely be seen. But even though they can't properly see from this distance, something about it appears very wrong.

*—tut-tut-tut-tut-tut-tut-tut-tut-tut-tut-tut-tut—*

Both Rydia and Tellah curiously look up and about, wondering what that increasing, motor-beating noise is and where it's coming from. But the dark knight already knows and is left standing stunned; it's an all-too-familiar sound that he can never mistaken nor forget in his entire life. He gazes fast towards the heavens and locates the source almost immediately.

The might of the Red Wings Fleet hovers high above Damcyan, and the cargo bay for each ship begins opening in unison. Tiny specks drop down, whistling from the sky, and land with an earth-shattering explosion. After the dust settles, the desert kingdom is no more.


End file.
